Seven Days is a Week
by iamanundeadmonkey
Summary: There are even spoilers in this summary. Jack is back, and he's furious with Elizabeth. When she's taken by Davy Jones, he is marked by the angry Lady Hel, and the only way to save himself is to save Elizabeth. And he's only got a week.
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I don't own PotC. Disney does. I don't. But I want to. One can only hope, correct?

Elizabeth solemnly watched the stationary pair of boots. Beyond them, concealed by a wall, was the body of Jack Sparrow. Captain _Jack Sparrow,_ she reminded herself with a small smile.

"All o' you must leave me in peace," Tia Dalma said loudly, startling Elizabeth from her stupor. "I will send word when 'e is ready to be awakened."

For a moment, Elizabeth felt like refusing, wanting to stay, curious. But as Barbossa walked away and the rest of the crew began to disperse, she found herself following them. Still not all there, she took Will's helping hand and stepped into the longboat.

a/n: Sorry so short…chapters will most definitely be longer. I had to fit in this little tidbit so people could kind of get what was going on. Also, there will sometimes be song lyrics to go along with the chapter, but not always. I can't always think of any.


	2. Elizabeth's Confession

DISCLAIMER: PotC still belongs to Disney. And the lyrics to Far Away are Nickelback's.

This time, this place 

_Misused, mistakes_

_Too long, too late_

_Who was I to make you wait_

_Just one chance _

_Just one breath_

_Just in case there's just one left_

_Cause you know, you know, you know_

_That I love you_

_I have loved you all along_

_And I miss you_

_Been far away for far too long_

_I keep dreaming you be with me_

_and you'll never go_

_Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore_

_On my knees, I'll ask_

_Last chance for one last dance_

_Cause with you, I'd withstand_

_All of hell to hold your hand_

_I'd give it all_

_I'd give for us_

_Give anything but I won't give up_

_Cause you know, you know, you know_

_That I love you_

_I have loved you all along_

_And I miss you_

_Been far away for far too long_

_I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go_

_Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore_

_So far away_

_Been far away for far too long_

_So far away_

_Been far away for far too long_

_But you know, you know, you know_

_I wanted_

_I wanted you to stay_

_Cause I needed _

_I need to hear you say_

_That I love you_

_I have loved you all along_

_And I forgive you_

_For being away for far too long_

_So keep breathing _

_Cause I'm not leaving you anymore_

_Hold on to me and never let me go_

Chapter 1 

Elizabeth trod carefully the boards of Tia Dalma's hut. In her hand she clutched a crumpled letter. In her heart she cradled a crumpled bird. She paced restlessly in front of the room where Tia Dalma worked.

Will sat at the rickety table, his hand clenched around the mug one of the people from the river had provided. They both looked up when a door closed. Tia Dalma stepped from the room, her face gleaming with sweat and her long, ragged dress whispering. She sat heavily across from Will, and the two looked at her expectantly.

"I cannot wake 'im," Tia Dalma whispered. "'E is too far gone.

"No," Elizabeth said. Her knees buckled into a kneeling position on the floor. Will knelt beside her, murmuring comforts. "Might I have a few moments alone with him…to say goodbye?" Elizabeth nearly choked on the last word.

Tia Dalma walked over and motioned Will back to the table. "I put a bit o' silence on da door t' allow ye a proper goodbye?"

"Thank you," Elizabeth whispered back. As she entered the room, she glimpsed Tia Dalma pointing a lazy finger at the door before it shut. Elizabeth's gaze fell on the bed.

It was strange. The beads, the braided hair and beard, the kohl-lined eyes, the bandanna, the tanned skin; it was all Jack's. But the serene, passive expression, the soulless appearance; it just wasn't _Jack. _Elizabeth felt like she was looking at the body of a stranger, and yet it was still an old friend. The wounds on his face and hands suddenly stood out like a pop-up book.

"Oh, Jack," she breathed, dropping to her knees beside the bed. She laid her forehead on an unblemished part of his chest. He smelled of salt, sun, sand, and the freedom of open air. And, of course, a touch of rum. The scent comforted her, and she breathed it in deeply.

"I don't know why I did it," Elizabeth told him. "I swear. I suppose you were right. I am a pirate. All I wanted to do was save my own skin." She snorted softly. "Who am I kidding? I know exactly why I did what I did. I was scared," she admitted. "I was afraid of my own feelings. I, the governor's daughter, in love with a dirty rotten pirate? I never even admitted it to myself. I was afraid of what anyone would think. Most especially you. But now I suppose I have to admit it." Elizabeth took a deep breath of the pirate's comforting scent. "Jack…I love you. I have no idea when I figured it out. I haven't the faintest idea why.

"But again, why am I trying to lie to a dead man? I suppose it was the way you went about trying to win me over. Subtle and yet sticking out like a sore thumb. Even though I was stony and indifferent on the outside, it was automatic. Inside, I was warming up to you. I wanted to leave Will and come with you on the _Pearl._ A life of battle and adventure appealed to me and, even better, my love was a brave, quick-witted, and adventurous pirate.

"In those last moments on the _Pearl_, when we kissed, I didn't know what to do. I enjoyed it, I admit, but I was repulsed by what I was planning to do, and it soured the moment. When I chained you to the mast, I lied. I was so sorry that words couldn't express it.

"'Pirate', you called me. It summed up the situation perfectly. Almost perfectly. What was it you said about acting on selfish impulse? Well, I suppose that's what I did. But sitting in Tia Dalma's hut, I knew I had done wrong, and I hated myself for it. I still do.

"When we brought your body back, I confess I was relieved, knowing that Tia Dalma could heal you and awaken you. But she couldn't do it." Elizabeth inhaled again, Jack's smell soothing her. "God, Jack, I'm so sorry. I hate myself. I wish I had kissed you and then helped you onto the longboat so you could escape. But I didn't. I was too cowardly. I don't think I could ever do anything to make it up to you. I'm so sorry. So sorry….I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." She repeated it like a mantra.

"Jack, don't you dare leave me, not now I've said that." She grabbed his white shirt with both hands and shook him. "Wake up!" she cried desperately. "I'll do anything. And if you don't, I'll…I'll feed the _Pearl_ to the kraken with all your rum and your hat on board. I'll tell Scarlett and Giselle that you cheated on them. I'll blow up Tortuga and sink it. I'll tell Beckett your exact location so that he can hang you. Wake up, bugger it!" she yelled, purposely using one of his words. "Wake _up!"_ She slapped him, but it was only half-hearted.

Jack didn't so much as twitch.

Elizabeth laid her head on his chest again and let out a dry sob. She swore at him. "Why am I so hopelessly in love with a dead pirate? Answer me!" she screamed. Then she began to sob uncontrollably. Her tears dripped onto Jack's chest from the end of her nose. "God, wake up and tell me what possessed me to kill you. Even I don't know. But you're a pirate. You know these things. Tell me why I killed you. Tell me why I love you! And it – had – better – be – _good!"_ Elizabeth choked, thumping her fist on his chest.

Jack gave a convulsive jerk.

Elizabeth fell back in surprise, her mouth agape. His chest expanded sharply, and then dropped. He took another breath and let it out. From her position on the floor, Elizabeth gasped as she watched the pirate's labored but sure breathing.

A/n: Ooo! Something that is somewhat but not really that much like a cliffie! Please review…it makes me very happy. Even criticism is good…as long as it's constructive. See the button? Put the mouse over it…very good. Now click on it.


	3. What Bodes Hell for Jack Sparrow

DISCLAIMER: PotC still doesn't belong to me…yet. And the lyrics…are also still Nickelback's.

Prison gates won't open up for me 

_On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'_

_Oh, I reach for you_

_Well I'm terrified of these four walls_

_These iron bars can't hold my soul in_

_All I need is you_

_Come please, I'm callin' _

_And oh, I scream for you_

_Hurry, I'm fallin'_

_Show me what it's like_

_To be the last one standing_

_And teach me wrong from right_

_And I'll show you what I can be_

_Say it for me_

_Say it to me_

_And I'll leave this life behind me_

_Say it if it's worth savin' me_

_Heaven's gates won't open up for me_

_With these broken wings I'm fallin'_

_And all I see is you_

_These city walls ain't got no love for me_

_I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story _

_And oh I scream for you_

_Come please I'm callin'_

_And all I need from you_

_Hurry I'm fallin'_

_Show me what it's like to be the last one standing _

_And teach me wrong from right_

_And I'll show you what I can be_

_Say it for me_

_Say it to me_

_And I'll leave this life behind me_

_Say it if it's worth savin' me_

_Hurry I'm fallin'_

_And all I need is you_

_Come please I'm callin'_

_And oh I scream for you_

_Hurry I'm fallin'_

_Show me what it's like_

_To be the last one standing_

_And teach me wrong from right_

_And I'll show you what I can be_

_Say it for me _

_Say it to me_

_And I'll leave this life behind me_

_Say it if it's worth savin' me_

_Hurry I'm fallin'_

_Say it for me_

_Say it to me_

_And I'll leave this life behind me_

_Say it if it's worth savin' me_

Chapter 2 

All he could feel was pain. The sorrow and anger of his memories were only fuel. At first, he thought he was being burned alive in some monstrous pit. The next moment, a thousand swords of the Royal Navy were impaling him. The next, the teeth of the kraken ripped his skin unmercifully.

And the memories came in floods: the mutiny, the look on Bill Turner's face as his captain and his friend was thrown into the water, the hate of Barbossa, his supposed friend, as the _Pearl_ sailed away; how Elizabeth had chained him to the mast, how she had said that she wasn't sorry, how she had walked away without a backwards glance and left him feeling the pangs of betrayed love – again. And the most torturous memory, so terrible that he need only see the man falling, hear the dull, squelching _thunk _of a sword in the man's abdomen, the feel of blood staining his hands and clothes, the look of the villagers as he ran by in his blood-soaked clothing, to induce self-torture.

Jack Sparrow had lost all hope. He knew that all that was left was pain, anger, sorrow, hate, and betrayal. He didn't dare hope, for the pain only grew more intense.

Something reached out to him, familiar and warm. Before he could catch it, flaming knives drove themselves into every inch of his body, and he screamed.

"What would your crew think of you now, Jack Sparrow? You are pathetic. You have only felt half the tortures that await you."

The voice talked to him sometimes, a deep and hard female voice that echoed with hatred.

"I…am not…pathetic," he said. He cursed the weak, quavering voice issuing from his lips.

"Really? Then why, when the others feel what you have felt, do they rejoice in the relief?"

"Isn't that…what…you tell…them all?" he said bravely. Jack could almost see a pair of lips, painted with blood, curving into a mocking smile.

"You are too smart for your own good, Jack Sparrow."

The pain reached such a pitch that he felt he would die. His very bones were on fire. He did not move. The pain intensified. He screamed again. His throat grew raw, and blood trickled down it. He retched. The pain lessened.

"There," the voice said sweetly. "You need only tell me if the pain is too much."

He was silent. The voice grew hard again.

"You are nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. Even if you are the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. I feel nothing but joy for your pain."

Jack refused to be intimidated.

"So please…make yourself at home."

Pain ripped him almost limb from limb. He felt his bones would turn to powder, leaving the rest of him to melt into a screaming puddle. He resisted the urge to cry out. Blood began to spill from his eyes, making a warm river on his cheeks. He spat when it made its way past his lips.

A pure tendril broke through his torture. He reached desperately for it.

_Wake up,_ it said. _Wake up._

Jack grasped the pure vine. A wave of darkness and hate swirled around his ankles, and he redoubled his grip. He felt the pureness starting to pull him away.

"This…is the day…you will always…remember as…the day…you almost caught…Captain…Jack…Sparrow."

Everything disappeared. All he saw was darkness. He was still in Hell. He cringed involuntarily, expecting some retaliation for his attempted escape. None came.

With difficulty, Jack drew in a breath. He let it out. For a few moments, he concentrated on settling his breathing into a steady rhythm. He reached up to his head and touched one of his wounds.

"Bugger," he cursed. His head throbbed. "My 'ead," Jack groaned. "Uhh. I need some bloody rum."

"Jack?"

His eyes popped open. They rolled to the side to find a young woman sitting on the floor. His chest felt damp. Jack weakly sat up.

"You," he said faintly. His eyes suddenly burned, turning into chocolate fire. "Get away from me," he hissed.

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"Get away from me," Jack repeated.

"Didn't you hear me?" Elizabeth said, rising apprehensively. This was the first time she'd seen Jack get really and truly angry. No, not angry; totally livid.

"Hear you? When? When you said you weren't sorry?"

Elizabeth flinched. "No. Just now…"

"No, I didn't hear you. Whatever you said was probably a lie."

"Jack…"

Overcome with hate, Jack stood up and backhanded her. The bird screamed. "I told you…to get out!" he roared.

A ring shaped welt had appeared on Elizabeth's cheek. "All right," she whispered, and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Will stood and enveloped her in his arms. Before she knew it, her body was shuddering with violent sobs.

"Elizabeth, what happened to your cheek?" Will asked softly.

"N-never mind," Elizabeth gulped. "He – he's back. And he hates me. He hates me for what I did."

"What?" Will said.

Tia Dalma stood abruptly. "What be ye sayin', girl?"

"He hates me," Elizabeth said.

"Lord," Tia Dalma muttered, and swept into Jack's room.

"What happened?" Will demanded, but Elizabeth only cried harder, nearing hysterics. He held her quaking body against his until her sobs faded into gasps. "Elizabeth, what happened?" he questioned urgently. Elizabeth shook her head vigorously.

The door to Jack's room opened, and she pressed herself closer to Will. Tia Dalma strode into the main room, expertly weaving through the various bottles and objects hanging from the ceiling. Following her hesitantly was Jack, with numerous wounds peppering his skin.

"_Jack?"_ Will gasped.

"No, it's me ghost," Jack snapped, his voice faint. As the pirate sank into a chair, Will couldn't help noticing that his hands were shaking.

Tia Dalma produced a bottle and handed it to Jack. He uncorked it, sniffed, and took a deep swig.

Elizabeth looked afraid as she sat across from him. Tia Dalma and Will took the two remaining seats.

"How be ye feelin', Jack?" Tia Dalma said.

"Bloody brilliant," Jack retorted.

"Ye'd best not snap at me, Jack. If it weren't for me an' da girl here, ye would not be alive," Tia Dalma warned.

Jack glared at them both. "An' if it weren't for _her_" – he jerked his head at Elizabeth, who shrank back – "I wouldn' 'ave needed wakin' in the first place."

"What?" Will said sharply. He looked at Elizabeth. "I think you owe me an explanation."

Elizabeth took a breath to steady herself. "When we were on the _Pearl_, I kissed Jack," she confessed.

"I know," Will said. "I saw you."

"You – _saw -?"_

"Yes. Keep going."

"When I did, I – backed him against the mast. And then I – I chained him. I told him I wasn't sorry. But I was. And then I left him there to die."

"You _what?"_ Will exclaimed.

"It was for us. It was after him, not the crew and the ship. I did what I had to," Elizabeth said quietly. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I hardly believe _that_," Jack interjected coldly.

"You don't understand!" Elizabeth screamed.

"Oh, I think I do," Jack said. His eyes were like hard, dark chips of ice.

"You're so _stupid!"_ Elizabeth shouted. She leaned across the table and smacked him as hard as she could.

Jack stood up and made a move to strike back, but Tia Dalma grabbed his arm. She caught hold of Elizabeth's as well. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE DIS IN MY HOME!" the priestess bellowed. Her voice echoed powerfully around the room so that even Jack cringed. "William. Stay here," she ordered. "Da two of you will come wit' me."

Jack and Elizabeth allowed themselves to be led to the small porch outside the hut, still glaring daggers at each other. Jack dropped onto a bench, breathing heavily. Elizabeth remained standing.

"Now da bot' o' ya listen to me, an' listen good," Tia Dalma said dangerously. "Jack, I know what ya did t' her in dat room. Neida o' ye go attackin' each odda again, ya hear? Now. I have anodda hut down riva a ways. Da bot' o' ya will be stayin' dere alone till ya can sort dis out. An' ya will not be comin' back a moment before. Understand?"

Jack began to protest, but Tia Dalma cut him off with a glare.

"I will take ya to da hut. I'll explain everyt'ing to Mista Turner when I return. In da boat."

Before Jack even got to his feet, Elizabeth went down to the dock and clambered quickly into the longboat. Tia Dalma helped Jack down the stairs more slowly. Once they were all settled, Tia Dalma untied the rope and took up a metal-tipped pole. She shoved the river bottom with it so that they moved off a t a medium pace.

Elizabeth sat at the stern and stared down at the wood, lost in thought. _What did I really expect him to do when he woke up? _she asked herself. _Tell me he forgave me and kiss me senseless?_

_Yes,_ another voice answered truthfully. _That knowing smile he gave me…But you can't expect to leave someone to die and then have them forgive you if the come back._

The boat bumped against the shore. Elizabeth came back to earth with a jolt. She stepped out of the boat and trailed after Tia Dalma.

"Welcome to yer new temporary home," Tia Dalma said flatly, holding open the door.

Elizabeth and Jack stepped inside.

"Dere be plenty o' food in the kitchen an' beds upstairs. I'll come check on ye in a few days t' make sure ye haven't gone an' murdered each other," Tia Dalma said.

Then she closed the door, leaving Jack and Elizabeth alone.


	4. Alone

DISCLAIMER: 'OW MANY BLOODY TIMES DO I 'AVE TO SAY IT! And yes, I know I like Nickelback way too much.

I guess it wasn't really right I guess it wasn't meant to be 

_I guess I stuck around_

_so I could watch us fight_

_for all the wrong reasons_

Chapter 3 

Jack found the silence unbearable. He couldn't be alone with Elizabeth. He turned around and stalked off. The effect was somewhat ruined by how slowly he moved. Soon Jack found something of a living room and threw himself onto a couch. A helpful bottle of rum sat of the coffee table, and he drained half of it in one gulp. Though he tried to forget it, his experiences in Hell were still foremost in his mind.

The bottle in his hand was soon empty. He fell asleep as it slid from his hand.

Jack awoke with Elizabeth shaking him.

"What do ye want?" he said impatiently.

"I fixed a bit of dinner. I thought you'd be hungry," she replied.

Jack shook his head at the tomato soup. It reminded him too much of blood.

Elizabeth sat next to him nervously and took a spoonful of soup. "Jack…" she said.

Jack stood up. "I'm goin' to bed," he said roughly. Elizabeth half-rose from the couch as though to stop him, but he had disappeared up the stairs.

Jack walked aimlessly around the second floor. There were five rooms: Two had twin beds, one a king, and the other two were bathrooms. Jack quickly succumbed to his tired legs. Leaning on the wall for support and cursing his own weakness, he made his way to one of the twin beds. He smacked his knee on a nightstand and swore loudly. He dropped onto the bed, muttering various curses.

"_Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, BUGGER."_

Jack tore off his boots and rolled onto his side, not bothering to slip under the sheets, and fell asleep immediately.

Elizabeth must have swallowed the last of her soup and taken care of her bowl. She must have stretched tiredly and headed upstairs. Because now here she was, standing at the entrance to Jack's room. The pirate had fallen asleep without bothering to remove his sword and compass or get under the covers. He looked so peaceful, especially compared to the angry and reclusive Jack Elizabeth had seen.

She tiptoed in and carefully placed the blanket over his shoulders before going into the room across the hall. She removed her boots and tucked the covers under her chin. Elizabeth tried to think again, but her tired brain would not allow it. She finally closed her drooping eyelids and slept.

Elizabeth was jolted awake the next morning by a cry of terror. She sat bolt upright and shoved her feet into her boots. Still rubbing sleep from her eyes, she wrenched open her door and crossed the hall.

"Jack, what happened? Are you all right?" Elizabeth called past the door.

"I'm bloody fine!" came the angry reply.

Elizabeth flared up immediately. "Good, because I don't care either way!" she lied. "Get your sorry butt downstairs for breakfast. _NOW!"_ She whirled around and thundered down herself, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Inside the room, Jack gave himself a mental smack. Still grumbling to himself, he attempted to put his boots on the wrong feet seven times before he got it right, and then went downstairs.

In the kitchen, Elizabeth plunked down a plate of eggs in front of him. Jack could have sworn he saw her furiously wipe away a tear before she sat down. He picked up his fork and slowly began to eat.

Jack watched Elizabeth wolf down her own breakfast and scrub the remaining dregs from her plate. She stuffed it into a cabinet and threw herself back into the chair, breathing hard. Her breaths eventually slowed.

"Jack," she said.

Jack kept his eyes on his plate, suddenly very interested in a small chip in the paint.

"I know you probably don't want to talk yet, but I have to get this off my chest."

Jack quickly assessed the room for escape routes.

"Jack, do you know why I did what I did?" Elizabeth said quietly.

"Because you're a dirty rotten _pirate_," Jack mumbled, his mouth full of eggs.

"And you're not, are you, you filthy hypocrite?" Elizabeth said scornfully. "And no. That's not why. I did it because…I was afraid."

_God, this is so much harder when he's awake._

"Of what? Meeting the same fate I did?" Jack spat bitterly.

"Yes, and no. Yes, I was afraid of being eaten alive. But that isn't the real reason." Elizabeth almost found herself wishing she had Jack's warm scent to comfort her again. She hesitated.

"Will you just bloody get on with it?" Jack said impatiently.

"Fine. I was afraid of loving somebody that I shouldn't."

Jack's fork stopped halfway to his mouth and dropped with a clatter. He gaped at the young woman in front of him. "Excuse me, could you repeat that?"

"No, I couldn't. It was hard enough the first time. But Jack, you've got to understand. I didn't know what to do. Think about it. The governor's daughter and the most notorious pirate to ever sail the Caribbean Sea? I think not. But I'm not afraid anymore."

_Not afraid anymore? What was she afraid of again? Oh yeah. And now she's _not _afraid. Which means…oh, bloody…_

"I love you, Jack."

Jack stood up and went to the door. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and went out to sit on a bench. So she _did _love him. It wasn't possible. (a/n: Not _probable._ Sorry.) Too confused with this new revelation, Jack turned to another thought as he heard a small sob from inside. Relief. Relief that Elizabeth had bought his act of surprise and anger.


	5. The Mark

DISCLAIMER: Please don't make me say it again. It's getting really depressing now. Really sorry I couldn't come up with a song for this chapter…

A/n: I'm not going to be writing the entire song now. It's getting a little long. And kind of ridiculous. So I'm just writing the part that best fits the chapter. On with the story! And please review…sniff

Chapter 4 

Half an hour later, Jack was still sitting outside, but now on a log. With his dagger, he began gouging random lines in the wood. They formed something that looked like a tree of waving lines. Jack cocked his head and studied it a while longer. It seemed to represent something. He just wasn't sure what.

After a while, Jack rose to his feet and walked back to the hut. "Rum…need rum," he muttered. The door shut behind him with a _bang_, and he was relieved to find the kitchen empty. He rummaged (a/n: Ha ha, get it? RUMmaged? Like pillaging for rum? I know I'm weird. Carry on.) through the cabinets, coming across one that held plates and bowls, another with pots, and a third carrying, for no apparent reason, a stuffed crocodile. In the fourth cabinet, what Jack found nearly made him laugh with giddiness. It was jam-packed with rum.

He grabbed a couple of bottles and sat down at the table. With his thumb and forefinger, he popped out the cork, grabbed the neck of the bottle, and took a healthy swig. Jack sat with his eyes fixed on the little whorls in the grain of the wood, savoring the strong rum and the silence. He couldn't figure whether he forgave Elizabeth or not. He couldn't figure his emotions toward her. It was different than with the women in Tortuga; they had been young and beautiful, and happened to tickle Jack's fancy at the time. Elizabeth was young and beautiful, and also happened to tickle his fancy. But it seemed more than that.

"No wonder it's bad luck to have a woman aboard a ship!" he growled, shaking his fist at a non-existent Gibbs. He took another swig of rum.

A scene started to replay itself in his head, no matter how hard he tried to beat it down.

_Elizabeth moved toward him. "Thank you, Jack."_

"_We're not out of this yet, luv," he reminded her heavily._

"_You came back." _

_He turned around to find her closer to him than he had ever expected her to be._

"_I always knew you were a good man."_

_And she kissed him._

_Something sparked inside him as the intensity of it hit him at the same time the mast did. As her hand moved down his left arm, something told him to throw her off, to run away, but the triumph of the moment couldn't be overcome._

_Until he heard the click of the manacle and felt the cold iron on his wrist._

_Elizabeth pulled away. "This is the only way, don't you see?" she said pleadingly. "It's after you, not the ship. It's not us."_

_He smiled knowingly. "Pirate."_

_Elizabeth touched her nose to his one last time. "I'm not sorry." And she walked away. He made to follow her, but the tug of the chain brought him back. He wasn't getting out of this one alive. But Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't going down without a fight._

_He caught up a lantern on the blade of his sword and smashed it. The oil dripped over his wrist, and he began to twist free. Finally, with his numerous rings turned around the wrong way, his wrist slipped from the iron manacle. He grinned in delight. Then he felt hot breath on his neck. He turned around._

_The kraken roared. Saliva and mucus spewed from its mouth and lathered Jack in a slimy coating. He shivered, then pulled the gunk from his eyes and mouth. "Not _so _bad." Then he spotted a hat at his feet; the very hat he had lost when this all started. "Oh!" he exclaimed happily, placing it on his head at a jaunty angle. He stared the kraken down, determination making his eyes clear. Jack grinned and unsheathed his sword. "Hello, beastie."_

Jack slammed the bottle of rum on the table. "Why can't you just go _away_, bugger it!"

"I'm sorry…"

Jack turned around so quickly he cricked his neck. "Er…" he said awkwardly, rubbing the sore spot. "Right words, wrong situation?" he offered helpfully. Elizabeth continued to stare. "What, 'ave I got gum on me forehead or something that I don't know of?" Jack said.

"Your kohl is running," Elizabeth whispered finally.

Jack cursed and brushed by her on his way upstairs.

She remained in the doorway a moment longer before going to sit in the recently vacated seat and uncorking the second bottle. Was what she saw actually true? Had Jack been…_crying?_ It seemed impossible…and yet it was true. Something had happened to reduce the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow to tears. And Elizabeth was determined to find out what.

Upstairs, Jack was still muttering incoherently to himself, a curse to be caught here and there. "God, no wonder pirates are always single," he mumbled, wiping away the smeared kohl. That done, he staggered into his room, a bit tipsy now half the rum was gone. He shut the door and plopped down on the bed, the bottle already at his lips. He let the remaining liquid slosh to the bottom.

Jack smirked and began humming. "We're devils, we're black sheep, and really bad eggs….Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." His grin widened. "_REALLY…_bad eggs."

He downed more rum, and was soon dancing drunkenly around the room and singing loudly. Another loud voice joined his from the landing in chorus: "YO HO, YO HO, A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR ME!"

Jack's shoulder collided with the door, and he opened it, stumbling into a clumsy do-si-do with Elizabeth. They both swung themselves into the wall, giggling. It reminded Jack of a time the two had spent together, marooned on an island. He stopped laughing.

Elizabeth looked at him. "Shall we sing another?"

In answer, Jack lurched away from the wall and into his room, slamming the door shut and sitting back on the bed. Yes, he was still angry. He admitted it.

He snatched the rum from a bedside table, finished it off in a single gulp, and passed out.

Elizabeth stared confusedly at the door behind which Jack had disappeared. They had been having such a good time…was her singing really that bad? Then she came back to her senses and to a realization. He didn't love her. He never had. And now…he hated her. While she was still in love with him.

She stifled a sob, slammed the door with a bang to rival Jack's, and threw herself upon the bed.

When unconsciousness faded into sleep, and sleep into dreams, Jack's were ravaged by images of Hell. Sometimes he felt as if her were back there. He woke, stifling yells of pain, only to find that there was no pain. Sometimes he woke to find that his memories were really in the past, and not happening at that very moment. Visions of the woman who had spoken to him, each one different and each one hideously beautiful, danced hauntingly through his thoughts.

One nightmare brought him to a room of stone like hardened lava. On either side of a throne of the same material sat two black stone bowls, flames of black burning in their centers.

On the throne was a woman. Her hair was a rich honey color. In it were tow black streaks, framing her porcelain-like face. Her eyes were blue, a blue so deep and icy that it seemed to carry an ocean of depths that even the bravest pirate would not dare sail. Her lips were full, daubed with the blood of her latest victim. The dress hugged the woman's form perfectly, its deep maroon silk complimenting her pure white skin. It fell loosely from her hips and cascaded down to the floor.

The lips smiled. "Jack Sparrow."

Jack stayed quiet.

"Do you not know who I am? No? Then let me tell you. I am the woman of you worst nightmares. And yet I reflect your desires, do I not? Dangerous. Mysterious. Independent.

"You ran from me, Jack. And you escaped. I don't appreciate it when men leave me for another woman."

"God, I've 'ad it with the bloody riddles. What's your name?" Jack asked boldly. A flash of pain struck him and then faded.

"You have asked, and I shall tell you. I am Lady Hel."

"That's an interesting name. Why'd yer parents decide to call you that?"

"I have no parents," the woman said coldly.

"Oh. So how'd ye come to be 'ere, then?"

"That is not for you to know. Now Jack, I am not very happy with you. I want your soul back."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I request it. No. I demand it. It is my job – and my pleasure – to collect departed souls and inflict torture on them until the end of time. You have not served your sentence."

"I've 'ad more'n enough pain to last me till the end of time, thanks very much. I'd rather come at my own pace."

The bowls of fire flared until they were twice Jack's height. Hel stood.

"You will come, and on my time, Jack Sparrow." She pointed at Jack, and a glittering ruby ring appeared on his finger.

"Not another bloody spot. I've 'ad enough of those with Jones," Jack muttered, tugging fruitlessly at the ring.

"I will be seeing you soon, Mr. Sparrow," Hel said. "You have seven days. One week."

"Captain. _Captain _Spar-" Jack started, but the vision was cut off in a blaze of flames.

Jack's eyes flew open. The first thing he became aware of was that his entire body was soaked with sweat. The next was that his fists were clenched. He quickly unclenched them.

Though it felt stupid, he checked both hands for the ruby ring. He let out a colorful mix of swears and pirate curses. There, on his left ring finger as though he were to be wed, was the ring. Jack let out another vivid swear and clattered down the stairs.

Elizabeth was not to be found in the kitchen, the living room, nor any other room in the hut. "Bloody _HECK!"_ he bellowed. (a/n: Of course, 'heck' was not Jack's exact word of choice. But we will be keeping it this way to keep ratings low.)

Jack stormed outside and around the perimeter of the hut and sighed. Nothing. Resigning himself to the worst after one last search inside and outside, Jack clambered into the boat and started towards Tia Dalma's tree house.

A/N: Well, there you are. Hope you liked it. I know Jack is very OOC right now, but wouldn't you be too if you had just gotten back from hell? He will get better in later chapters, I promise you. Please please please review…it makes me so happy. 


	6. Missing

DISCLAIMER: Will you stop making me say this? I'm going to have to start taking meds if I get much more depressed about this. POTCISALLDISNEY'S there. Happy now? And the lyrics are Beck's, even if you've never heard of him, which you probably haven't.

Something always 

_Missing always_

_Someone missing _

_Something_

I can't believe these tears are mine I'll give 'em to you to keep away in a box Chapter 5 

"She's _what?"_

"MISSING!" Jack yelled for what felt like the eighty-seventh time. "How many more bloody times do I have to say it?"

"I'm just making sure," Will said. "Are you –"

"I AM COMPLETELY BLOODY POSITIVE! OTHERWISE I WOULDN'T BLOODY _BE_ HERE!"

"All right, all right. I'll get Tia Dalma."

Jack watched Will walk away into a different room of the hut. He sidled over to a counter and glanced at its contents. He picked up a particularly large and heavy ring and placed it on the middle finger of his left hand. It would draw attention away from the drop of ruby – Jack hoped.

"What brings you here wit'out Elizabeth?"

Jack jumped. "Tia Dalma!" he said warmly. "Ah…we seem to 'ave a bit of a problem."

"A problem? Of what form?" Tia Dalma asked suspiciously.

"In the form of an otherwise empty hut," Jack said evasively.

"Meaning, I am assuming, that Elizabeth is gone."

"Yep. Pretty much."

Tia Dalma exhaled.

"Would you know where she is?" Will pressed.

Tia Dalma looked at him. "O' course I don't. How would I?"

Will looked crestfallen. She smiled.

"What I can do…is find 'er." She sat down at her table and took up the crab claws. She studied their pattern carefully. "Davy Jones," the priestess finally muttered.

"Jones?" Jack echoed. "No, I've had enough of 'im. Sorry, mate, you're on your own." He started to walk out of the hut.

"Let me see youm 'and," Tia Dalma said.

"My hand? But it's completely fine," Jack said in mock confusion, holding out his right hand. Tia Dalma narrowed her eyes. Jack rolled his own in resignation and held out his left hand.

"As I thought. You 'ave been visited by Lady Hel."

"'Ow the bloody heck do I get it off?"

"You must kill the Lady Hel before she claims you."

"Brilliant. No problem. And 'ow would I do that?"

"By finding Davy Jones."

"Oh, of all the bloody people – er, squids – it 'ad to be him to save my life," Jack said exasperatedly.

Tia Dalma smiled. "I think you will find 'im quite willing to 'elp you. You see…Lady Hel was 'im sweetheart."

"_Her?_ No wonder he's so bitter," Jack smirked.

"Wait a moment. Who is this Lady Hel?" Will asked.

"No one you want to meet," Jack said. He stuck out his tongue for emphasis. "Apparently she runs Hell. And she's very…shall we say…vengeful."

"So…if she was Jones's sweetheart, why would he help Jack kill her?"

"You be forgetting dat Jones has no love left in 'im save for the torture of others. And 'e no longer loves her for what she did to 'im. Dis be why Jones collects the souls. To keep dem away from her," Tia Dalma explained. "Dis be why 'e wanted Jack so badly. 'E would be a powerful ally against Lady Hel. But against him, worse, for Jack was all da wiser from 'is past dealings wit' Jones and I."

"Why 'asn't anyone asked my opinion on this? I'd very much like to stay alive rather than turn into a fish or be tortured until the end of time, thanks," Jack spat.

"I know," Tia Dalma said solemnly. "Dat is why we must rid da world of dem bot'. Before dem, it was t'ree instead of five: World's End, da Otherworld, or da _real_ Hell. Now dere are t'ree Hells, World's End, and da Otherworld. It is time da world go back to what it shoulda been." She finished with her finger pointing dramatically at the crab claws. The formed a line on the table. "In da end, all o' you will meet where da five collide. But for now…I've been casting da bones. You must go ta dis island ta meet wit' Davy Jones." She pointed at a map. "Once you get dere, you must convince Jones to giver you da _Pearl_ for ta get whatever 'e wants for Elizabeth. And I'm sure you will come up wit' a way for him to 'elp you get ta Hel. You are very resourceful."

Jack sighed. "'Ow exactly do we get to this island?"

Tia Dalma smiled again and provided the bearings, and then she took Jack aside. "I am sure dat if you forget da bearings, your compass can lead you dere," she said slyly. Then, so Will could hear her as well, she said, "You may borrow my ship. I am hoping to get it back, though it may be impossible in one piece, but try your best. Come, I will escort you."

Will and Jack followed Tia Dalma from the hut and down to the longboat. Jack sat heavily at the stern, his strength still not all there. Tia Dalma again took up the pole and headed them past her hut.

The waters began to turn darker and darker. A fine mist was starting to gather. It settled over Jack's shoulders like a blanket, putting his nerves on end. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a gigantic crocodile slid into the river.

And suddenly there it was, right before their eyes: a ship of beautiful golden-colored wood, its sails of a shining silvery material, and its figurehead…its figurehead looked almost exactly like the design Jack had inadvertently carved. The tree of waving lines.

"What exactly is that?" Jack asked.

"Da figurehead? It is da tree of life. Nobody knows exactly where it grows. Many 'ave claimed dat dey saw it, but it was probably false," Tia Dalma said dismissively.

"What's she called?" Jack queried.

"Da _Silver Mermaid_."

They lapsed into silence until the longboat's nose bumped the hull of the _Mermaid_.

"Up ye get," Tia Dalma said.

Will reached the deck first, the priestess behind him and the pirate last.

"Now, when ye get ta Tortuga, you'll need a crew for da _Pearl_ and a crew and captain for da _Mermaid_. She" – Tia Dalma patted the _Silver Mermaid_'s railing – "needs only five ta crew 'er. For da sail ta Tortuga da two o' ya should do fine. An' Jack…" Tia Dalma paused, looking sorrowful. "Good luck."

OI! Sorry, had to get your attention somehow. This goes back to the night before.

Elizabeth was roused by a crackling sound. Then a rough, slimy hand placed itself over her mouth.

"Jack?" she murmured, opening her eyes. The hand muffled her scream as she watched Davy Jones's crew extricate itself from the woodwork of the hut.

"Not another sound, or Turner dies," one of them hissed. Elizabeth nodded. The crew member scooped her up and carried her out of the hut. It finally set her down in a longboat.

She couldn't remember ever being so afraid in her life that she couldn't make a sound, but so it was as the crewmen began to row along the river. After a while, the longboat nosed the hull of the _Flying Dutchman_, and one of the crew commanded "Up!" Elizabeth quickly obeyed, and found herself staring straight into the eyes of none other than Davy Jones himself. They were blue, and seemed to possess an entire ocean.

"Come with me," he said.

Jones whirled around, tentacled beard flying, and stumped off. Elizabeth followed tentatively, quaking with terror. Jones eventually led her to the brig.

"In," he said shortly.

Elizabeth obliged, and he slammed the door.

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

"Bait." Jones laughed horribly and went back up to the deck.

Elizabeth sank down to the floor of the brig. "Why am I always the bait?" she said bitterly.

"Because William loves you," answered a hoarse voice.

Elizabeth jumped. "Who's there?"

A man, more human than the rest but still sporting an abundance of sea life, materialized from the shadows. "William Turner. Senior," the man added.

"So you're-?"

"Will's father? Yes." Bootstrap gave a crooked smile. "Though I may not look so much like him right now."

Elizabeth, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from the starfish clinging to Bootstrap's temple, privately agreed. "How did you get here?" she asked.

He looked away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" she said hastily, but Bootstrap cut her off.

"No," he said. "It's fine. Bad memories." He smiled again, apologetically. "Don't feel bad. In short, I didn't like what Barbossa had done to Jack. So he tied me to a cannon and threw me overboard."

"That's horrible!" Elizabeth gasped.

Bootstrap shrugged. "I don't remember it so much anymore." Then he looked back at Elizabeth. "What won out Jack in…in the end?"

"Me," she whispered. "I chained him to the mast." She braced herself for an explosion, but none came. When she looked at Bootstrap questioningly, he merely shrugged again.

"I thought it would be something like that," he said sadly.

"He's not dead anymore," Elizabeth told him.

His brow furrowed. "How?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Elizabeth admitted. "Do your best not to tell Jones, though…he could be our element of surprise." She stopped herself when she realized she was already planning a highly unlikely escape.

Even so, Bootstrap promised not to let on. "We'll never get out of here," he added heavily, "but I won't say anything."

Compelled by a sudden need to comfort Will's father, Elizabeth stood up. "We _will _escape," she said strongly. "Will, if I know him, will help us. And maybe – just maybe – Jack will too."

Bootstrap began to move toward the stairs. "I'll visit you again," he said. "And by the way…I wouldn't count on Jack if I were you."

A/N: 'Ello, poppets. I won't be able to update that much this week…my teachers give me so much homework that it isn't even funny. Not that it was funny in the first place. Seriously. One night my backpack weighed 30 pounds. Anyway…hope you liked this chapter. First one to review gets a bottle of rum. Okay, maybe I don't have any rum. No one heard that, right? . . 


	7. Tortuga

DISCLAIMER: See chapters 1, 2, 3 4, and 5 plus the prologue. Lyrics are, again, Nickelback's.

I'm tired of standin' in line 

_At clubs I'll never get in_

_It's like the bottom of the ninth_

_And I'm never gonna win_

Chapter 6 

Within the next day, Tortuga had come into sight of the _Silver Mermaid._ Jack carefully steered the ship into port as the evening drew to a close. Striding confidently through the streets (though, after a few gasps of "He's back!" and "God, I swear Jack Sparrow could cheat the devil if he put his mind to it!", it became more of a confident swagger), he turned again to Will.

"Funny, innit?" he said. "Once again, we find ourselves walking to the Faithful Bride in Tortuga in hopes of saving dear" – he put a slight emphasis on 'dear' – "Elizabeth."

When Jack pushed open the door of the Faithful Bride, the music suddenly went silent. Brawls stopped in mid-punch. A final bottle dropped to the floor and shattered.

"You're supposed to be dead!" a man shouted.

"That 'as a familiar ring to it," Jack said calmly. "Now, I've come for a pair o' crews. I need five for the _Silver Mermaid_ and six for the _Black Pearl_. If you think yourself worthy, come and follow me."

"The _Black Pearl_? That one got dragged down by the kraken, it did, an' with you on it!"

"We're getting it back," Jack said.

"'Ow?"

"We're going to be paying a visit to Davy Jones," Jack answered impatiently. There was a general ripple of fear at this statement.

Jack motioned for Will to follow him and walked off into a room at the back of the pub. A line of men trailed after them.

"Single file line. No pushing, shoving, elbowing, punching, kicking, poking, kneeing, slapping, smacking, hitting, jabbing, smashing bottles or anything else over heads, cutting, bruising, gashing, slicing, stabbing, or slitting throats," Jack called. "Or biting," he added as an afterthought.

Will gave him a strange look.

"Trust me, people will do anything to find loopholes. I know all about it. So I leave no loopholes," Jack said.

"Ah," Will replied. He scratched his head.

Jack sat down behind a table and pulled two sheets of paper from his pocket. To the first in line, he said, "And will you be able to stay true to orders from either Mr. Turner, the first mates, or myself in the face of difficulty, danger, almost certain death, and where the five afterlives collide?"

"O' course, Cap'n," the man said.

"Mr. Gibbs?" Will said incredulously.

"Will! That you? You've cleaned up since we last met. And…" Gibbs blinked drunkenly a few times. "JACK!" he roared happily. "How's the afterlife treat ye?"

"Not so well, Mr. Gibbs. And yourself?" Jack said.

"Rum!" Gibbs replied.

"That's always a good sign. First mate on the _Pearl_. Make your mark."

Gibbs signed the roster and stepped aside for the next man.

"And you?" Jack said. "Will, get me some rum," he muttered, shoving two coins over.

Will rolled his eyes and shouldered out past the growing line of men to find rum. At the bar, he leaned up against the counter. "Rum," he told a surly looking woman. She reached down and produced a bottle of amber liquid, which she plunked on the counter.

"Two shillings," she grunted.

Will pushed over the coins and took the rum back to Jack. Now there were three names on the _Silver Mermaid_'s paper and two on the _Black Pearl_'s.

Jack took a swallow of rum before interrogating the next man. This went on for a while until Jack waved away the rest of the line.

"We got ourselves a couple o' crews," he said. "Your first mate's Cotton, his parrot'll repeat everything anyway. The rest –"

"Wait – I'm to be a captain?" Will said.

"Who else was goin' to be captain of the _Mermaid_? The rest of 'em seem trustworthy enough to get us through. We'll leave tomorrow at first light and sail for that island, savvy?"

"Sure," Will said. "Where are we sleeping?"

"Here," Jack said, gesturing at a pair of beds on either side of the room.

"Good." Will yawned tiredly and sank onto the bed. "I'm exhausted."

"'Night, then," Jack said.

"Yeah…'night," Will answered.

Will woke up just as suddenly and abruptly as if someone had slapped him in the face. The moon was full, and it spilled into the room with a cold, silvery light. He looked over at Jack's bed. The pirate was lying there, wide awake, his face covered in sweat and his eyes huge.

"Jack?" Will called hoarsely. He saw Jack's eyes flick over in his direction.

"Go back to sleep."

"You screamed, didn't you?"

"No. Why would I scream?"

"Yes, you did. Otherwise I wouldn't have woken up."

"You must be a light sleeper, then. All I did was cough."

Will glared suspiciously.

"Oh, all right, I did yell. But there was a rat on my bed. Wouldn't you yell if there was a rat staring you in the face when you woke up?"

"Sure," Will said skeptically. He rolled over onto his side and fell asleep.

Jack, however, did not sleep so easily. He knew for a fact that, however dirty it might be, the Faithful Bride had no rats. Not even one. He was awake until the moon disappeared behind the distant mountains.

Jack finally rolled out of bed. "OI!" he yelled at Will. Will shouted something about his wedding being ruined and jumped about a mile off the bed.

"What was that for? I thought I was a light sleeper!"

"I don't particularly care. Now get out of bed and ready, ye lazy cockroach, it's time to go."

While Jack slid his feet into his boots, Will practically leapt out of bed to belt on his sword. He then hopped four times around the room on one foot in an attempt to put on a boot.

"Not a morning person, are ye, son? By the way, that's the wrong boot on the wrong foot," Jack said.

By the time Will and Jack were down at the docks, their two crews had gathered uncertainly together and were talking amongst themselves.

"I 'ope there's no talk of a mutiny quite yet! I 'aven't even got started!" Jack bellowed. "The _Mermaid_'s at dock four, along with 'er supplies! Well, go on, go load them, ye scabrous dogs!"

All but one, Gibbs, scurried to obey Jack's orders. "Sir, what are the _Pearl_'s crew to be doin' until we get 'er back?" Gibbs asked.

"'Elpin' t' crew the _Silver Mermaid_," Jack answered promptly.

"If ye don't mind my askin', where did ye get the _Mermaid_?" Gibbs said curiously.

"Tia Dalma's," Jack said.

"And…how're ye doin'?"

"I have no inclination to answer that question."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs said, and hurried off to the dock with the other sailors.

The _Silver Mermaid_ pulled out of Tortuga just as the sun poked its slim, pink fingers over the horizon. The light glinted mysteriously on the strange silver material that made the rolled-up sails. It was quite a dazzling spectacle, really, Will thought to himself.

"FULL CANVAS!" Gibbs yelled.

Will scaled the nearest mast with ease and let loose the sail. The material was very thin, nothing like the canvas he was used to. "Those sails are so thin they're barely there!" Will shouted. The rest of the crew was sharing his concern. Gibbs turned to Jack, looking nervous.

"They'll hold! You've no idea what they're really made of!" Jack reassured.

"Whatever it is had better be good and fast," Will muttered to another sailor.

Elizabeth was hungry. She hadn't eaten since the morning before she'd been kidnapped. She kept hoping that Bootstrap would come back with food for her, but so far he hadn't even visited her again.

A thumping could be heard from the staircase. Elizabeth looked up, hoping it was Bootstrap coming to visit her.

But the old pirate was nowhere near where she was finally receiving her first meal. He was on deck, biting hard on a rope in the rigging and trying not to cry out as he again felt the sting of the whip cutting his back.

"What have ye to say for yerself, Bootstrap?" Jones said softly. "Will ye tell me ye're sorry?"

"Never," Bootstrap spat. "I won't. He was my son."

The whip cleaved another gash between his shoulder blades, and he finally cried out.


	8. Memories of the Black Pearl

Reminiscence and Resurrection 

DISCLAIMER:No, potc STILL isn't mine. HOW many BLOODY times do I have to SAY IT!

A/N: Hi, all. Thanks to all those who have left me these loverly reviews…they make me feel so good! Updates will probably only be on weekends unless I have a lucky day where my teachers don't give me that much homework and I have time. But that probably won't be all that often. Very sorry about that…couldn't think of lyrics for this chapter either…slipping in my old age, huh? dodges tomato

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As the day wore on, the _Silver Mermaid_ sailed farther and faster away from Tortuga. The waters grew murkier. The crew began to get nervous. Even Jack was on pins and needles, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end at all times.

Gibbs passed out rations in the middle of the day. Jack refused his own and the rest ate and drank in silence. As the evening drew to a close, the smell of brine settled heavier than ever, and the water had turned black. There was still no sign of land in any direction.

Gibbs climbed anxiously to the helm. "Cap'n, how much longer until we reach this island?" he asked.

"Maybe an hour, maybe two," Jack said confidently. Gibbs looked around in surprise. There was no land but horizon. He repeated his thoughts to the captain. "You 'eard me. Now get down there an' see if we can't get a bit more speed from those sails," Jack ordered. Gibbs hurriedly relayed the orders to the crew. Jack had been in a mood ever since they had set out, being harder than usual on the men.

"Cap'n…is there somethin' that's botherin' ye?" Gibbs said.

"Other than the fact that two afterlives are clamoring for my soul to torture, nothing, Mr. Gibbs, nothing at all," Jack snarled, tilting the wheel to avoid a large rock. "Here we are. This is the island."

"Where?" Gibbs said.

"That rock."

"SAIL HO!"

Jack's eyes snapped up. "Colors?" he shouted.

"None!"

"Jack, it's the _Dutchman_!" Will called, pausing in his adjustments of a sail.

"Good. We're making good time. Five days," Jack mumbled.

"Five days?" Gibbs repeated.

"Five days until that bloody she-devil gets me. Or at least tries to."

"She-devil? Are ye talkin' of Lady Hel?"

"Bingo. Fly a flag of truce."

"Run up the white flag!" Gibbs yelled. Now all of the crew could see the _Flying Dutchman_ moored up ahead, and nerves tingled.

"I hate being sober," Jack muttered. "Gibbs, fetch me a bottle of rum."

"I'm not so sure that's the best idea, Cap'n, what with Jones bein' after ye," Gibbs hesitated.

"Not when he hears what I've got to tell 'im. In fact, he'll be bloody encouraging me. Go."

Soon, with the white flag of truce over their heads and a bottle of rum in Jack's hand, the _Silver Mermaid_ came abreast of the _Flying Dutchman_. It was then that Davy Jones decided to use his rather unwanted talent for appearing on other ships. He popped into existence in front of Jack, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How did you get here?"

"Well, it seems to me that that would be quite obvious, seeing as the both of us are standing on it," Jack said.

Jones sniffed. "Why have you come to speak with me?"

"Well, number one, it seems that you 'ave an acquaintance of mine captive on your ship. Secondly, it also seems that you would know how we would get to one Lady Hel."

"What dealings have you with that witch?"

Jack somewhat reluctantly held out his left hand. Jones smiled knowingly. "So you seek to destroy her. How long has she given you?"

"A week," Jack said. "Five days left."

"Oh, she must hate you. She normally gives them a month.," Jones grinned.

"All the more better. Which also means time's a-wasting. Are you going to help us or not?" Jack snapped.

"I will help you if you bring the heart," Jones said quickly.

"Ah. And therein lies the problem," Jack countered with a smirk. "I have only five days and not a fast enough ship."

"I know where this is going," Jones said slowly. "You want the _Pearl_."

"It is the fastest ship in the Caribbean," Jack wheedled. "It would get us back here all the more quicker…."

Jones did not answer immediately. He looked Jack up and down, his beard curling thoughtfully to stroke his own chin, as though sizing the pirate up. Jack continued staring right into Jones's eyes, so intensely that it unnerved the other man. "We have an accord," Jones said finally. "Your have five days until Hel sends her demons for you. The _Pearl_ will be raised tonight." Just as quickly as he had appeared, he vanished from the deck.

"What now?" Will's voice said.

Without looking around, Jack said, "We moor here for the night. And we wait."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hurried footsteps were coming down the stairs. Elizabeth pressed herself against the bars of the brig as Bootstrap Bill came into view. "Will is here," he said breathlessly. "And Jack as well."

"Where?" Elizabeth asked.

"Here," said a familiar voice. Will and Jack stepped into the room together.

"You came!" Elizabeth exclaimed, though she was not sure to which man she said it.

"Look, Elizabeth, we haven't got much time. We're getting you out of here," Will said, positioning himself near the bars.

"What does Jones want with me?" Elizabeth questioned.

"He wants Jack to get the heart," Will said.

"Which, unfortunately, we only have five bloody days to do," Jack put in from his spot against the cell across from Elizabeth's.

_"Five days!"_ Elizabeth shouted in outrage. "Five days! How can he give you only five bloody days!"

"It wasn't 'im who gave us the time limit; he wouldn't 'ave 'ad one, if I know his desperation to find that heart," Jack said mysteriously. Elizabeth tried to coax a more specific answer from his eyes, but they were completely emotionless.

"What can I do?" she said helplessly.

"Wait," Will said grimly. "Wait and hope to God we make it."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Will slept badly that night. He tossed and turned, and just when he'd get to sleep, the low rumble of an organ and an eerie, deep-voiced chanting would grow louder and jolt him awake. He finally resigned himself to the fact that he would get no sleep that night and went out on deck.

The smell of salt had intensified so much that Will's nostrils ached when he took his first breath of night air. Leaning his elbows on the rail, he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Pretty bad-smelling when they do this. Same thing happened last time."

Will drew in a sharp breath, hissed out the sickening smell of brine, and turned around. Jack was leaning back on the railing so that he faced Will. Will noticed something haggard about the pirate's eyes and the few extra lines around his nose that he couldn't quite place. Was it the fear of the hunter turned hunted? Before he could stop himself, Will was asking the question that the entire crew had been clamoring to know. "Jack…what happened down there?"

Jack's features instantly hardened. "Why do _you_ want to know?"

"Curiosity," Will admitted. Jack flinched slightly.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to stay that way until trumpets sound and beyond, then, won't you?" he said, looking back out over the water.

Will opened his mouth to reply, but anything he might have said was drowned out by a loud sucking noise. He followed Jack's gaze to an enormous whirlpool. Its middle was as dark as the blackest depths. It was swirling so quickly that its edges were laced with white foam. It had to be sixty feet wide. Will looked nervously over at Jack, but the older man didn't seem to mind the whirlpool at all.

The dark bow of a ship emerged from the center of the swirling vortex. It was followed by a figurehead depicting a lady holding a bird, and then a broken mast carrying black sails. The second half of the ship sprang up slightly to the side of the first.

Chanting rolled through the air like growling thunder. The organ was struck louder than ever. The whirlpool disintegrated. The two halves of the ship moved together and formed a smooth fit. The masts slowly creaked upright without leaving the slightest trace they had ever been snapped. The holes in the sails patched themselves with dark fabric. The organ music guttered like a candle in a storm and silenced itself. The chanting halted abruptly. All was quiet. The _Black Pearl_ floated in between the _Flying Dutchman_ and the _Silver Mermaid_ as if it had been there all along.

Jack was smiling faintly to himself. Will, hoping to be able to sleep for the rest of the night, silently returned to his cabin, leaving Jack to admire his newly repaired ship.

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Jack felt that no words, no matter how colorful and laced with gold, could describe the joy he felt when the _Black Pearl_'s hull had breached. He leaned quietly on the railing of the _Silver Mermaid_ and reveled in the sight of his beloved ship. Then, with practiced ease, he silently lowered a longboat into the water. He set two oars in the oarlocks and gently propelled the longboat away.

Jack could smell the beautiful scent of the _Pearl_'s wood as he climbed the ladder and stepped on the deck. He moved over to a certain mast and caressed the jagged gouges in the wood. His rough fingertips roved over a sharp piece. Hissing in pain, he removed the finger and sucked on it. Soon, though, Jack's fingers fluttered back to the piece. He grasped it between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. It was a piece of glass, specifically from a lantern. Jack slipped the piece into an inside pocket of his long coat.

Automatically, he fingered a thick bit of raised skin on the inside of his left arm. And suddenly, there he was, drawing his sword and stepping forward to meet his death, the teeth of the kraken tearing gleefully at his skin and bones while he refused to scream for mercy…

Jack's hand moved to the still closed handcuff and gripped it tightly until it made angry red marks in his palm. It was as cold and merciless as it had been on that fateful day, sending a slow chill shivering down his spine. He moved away from the mast and up to the helm.

Jack took hold of the wheel and rubbed it with his thumb, knowing every whorl and twist and turn of the grain to the point of foolishness. It fit perfectly to his hand, as though it had been made for him.

_Jack Sparrow was fifteen years old. It was the perfect day for sailing. The sea was calm, and even though the ship was still tied to the dock, Jack imagined that its sails were taut and full of air. He had wanted to be captain of a ship since he had known what it was. And not just any ship; a pirate ship. He stood at the helm, his legs apart for balance, and rubbed his hands over the smooth wood._

_The rasp of a sword being drawn turned him around._

_"Get away from that wheel, kid!" the captain warned._

_Jack put his hands up innocently. "Sorry, I just thought it was such a pretty ship," he said. The captain jabbed at him. He leaned back so that he was nearly in half. "No need to get so feisty, mate. I was only admiring your ship," Jack said, cautiously unsheathing his own sword. The man was obviously drunk; Jack would have to deal with him carefully._

_The captain advanced slowly. Jack easily dodged the clumsy attacks thrown at him, feeling no need to parry them and actually engage. Suddenly, the heel of Jack's boot found the edge of a stair, and he tripped, tumbling backwards and landing hard on his back. He balanced himself on his elbows, shaking his head. Then his eyes widened in horror._

_The captain fell forward, all four limbs flailing._

_Jack was frozen in shock._

_The captain impaled himself on Jack's sword with a funny choking noise._

_The weight of the man nearly crushed him. Warm, thick blood soaked his hands and made a spreading stain over his clothes. The captain gave a final jerk and fell still._

_Jack's eyes and mouth were permanently wide open. The crew was starting to gather around, mumbling. With difficulty, Jack rolled the dead man off of himself. He got to his feet and walked away, tears burning the corners of his eyes. He walked quickly down the gangplank and onto the dock. He left the sword; he didn't want it as a reminder. Blood dripped steadily from his clenched fists._

_Jack took a quick glance at the gaping sailors and began to run. He ran through the village and broke the stares as though his head were a battering ram, tears streaming down his face. He had gone quite a ways out of the village when he realized something was poking him in the side. Part of a rib had caught in the sash around his waist._

_Jack slowed to a stop on the empty dirt road. He picked out the bone and scraped it over a rock. Every once in a while he would turn it. When he looked at it again, it was smooth and pure white, not a trace of blood left on it anywhere._

_Jack wove the smooth bone into a section of his hair, where it stuck out at an odd angle. It would serve as a reminder until the day he died._

Jack reached up and touched the bone. It was cold. He rubbed the wheel again, creating a warm spot to rest his hand on. He looked up at the pitch-black sky, dotted with perfect, clear diamonds. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Everything was so peaceful…why was it that tomorrow he had to engage in a race against time and death itself? Death was becoming a formidable contestant; one so formidable that even Jack was having a hard time eluding its icy clutch.

The moon, round and silvery-white, was at its zenith. Jack stood still for a while and enjoyed the sight, the smell of the Black Pearl's wood tingling in his nostrils, and thought long and hard, and of many different things. He thought of memories, recent and not so recent, long ago and not so long ago. He thought of feelings and the puzzle of emotions that even he could not piece together. He thought of pain and peace. He thought of ways out of his most recent problem. He thought of Tia Dalma's ominous words of the Lady Hel. He thought of the kraken's putrid breath. He thought of the Black Pearl. He thought of Elizabeth.

Jack Sparrow threw himself upon the deck of the Black Pearl and yelled his frustration and sorrow to the sea.

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Elizabeth watched the longboat touch the water and smiled.

It quickly moved off, and she could make out Jack's silhouette carefully rowing. She watched him climb onto the deck and make his way over to a mast. He slipped something into his coat and stood still for a moment, and then walked up to the wheel, his hand roving over every bit of wood it could reach.

Elizabeth smiled again when he caressed the wheel in his usual fashion. Then he stood stock still for a long time, so long that Elizabeth thought he must be frozen or paralyzed. Finally, he moved to reach up to his head and touch something. He rubbed the wheel again, as though comforting himself. He watched the stars. Elizabeth was happy that he seemed so peaceful for once.

She stifled a cry of pain when the pirate fell forwards onto the deck. A rough yell echoed across the water. It haunted Elizabeth to know that she had caused the confusion and sadness that were hidden in the cry.

A/N: There ya go. Hope you all liked it! Leave me some love, the next chappie will be up even quicker if you do...I have part of the huge final battle scene playing in my head, and NONE of you are going to like it. At first. I shall reveal no more than the name of the next chapter: The Sea Serpent Speaks and Bootstrap is Freed. REVIEW! YARR!


	9. The Sea Serpent and Bootstrap Bill

A/N: Okelydokely, then! So. This chapter was written late at night when I was INCREDIBLY bored and absolutely COULD NOT fall asleep to save my life, and yes it is quite strange so um…yeah. Shout out to sevn.dust and random zinthos for being my first reviewers ever! ON WITH THE SHOW!

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. Lyrics are Beck's.

_'Cause everybody knows_

_The fabric of folly_

_Is comin' apart at the seams_

The Sea Serpent Speaks and Bootstrap is Freed

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Jack woke the following morning to a bony finger poking him in the side. He rolled over onto his stomach so that his face was buried in the pillow.

"Go away and leave me in peace," he mumbled in a muffled voice.

"Jack, we have to go," Will's urgent voice said back.

"Why? I'm perfectly comfortable the way I am now…"

"We have to get the heart, remember?"

"Not that bloody heart….Get the Pearl's crew over here. Tell them they'd better be here before they can say 'keelhaul', or that's what'll be happening. Step to, go on," Jack urged, rolling upright. Will nodded and left the captain's cabin of the Black Pearl. "Rum," Jack muttered. He went below deck, grabbed a bottle, and met his crew on top. "Heave to and take in anchor!" he ordered. "Full canvas! Set sail for the east! I've a notion where that heart escaped to," he added to Gibbs in an undertone.

"Where?" Gibbs said curiously.

"Port Royal."

"Port Royal?" echoed another voice. Jack fell back slightly in surprise and looked sideways at Will.

"Shouldn't you be on your own ship?"

"I just wondered where we were going, Captain."

Jack smirked. "Glad you finally remembered, whelp. Get on over to the Mermaid and follow us." Will took the longboat that Jack had used the night before and rowed back to Tia Dalma's ship. A few moments later, Jack could hear him bellowing orders at his men, mixed with a few attempts at nautical insults such as 'ye scurvy landlubbers'. Cotton's parrot repeated the orders and replaced Will's weak words with a few colorful choices of its own, examples being 'scabrous dogs' and 'diseased potato rats'. Jack wasn't sure if potato rats even existed, much less diseased ones. For what was the point of the disease being carried by potato rats if there were no potato rats to carry said disease? He shook his head and went to the helm, taking another few swallows of rum along the way. Something told him it was going to be a long five days.

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The weather was beautiful indeed. The wind pushed the two ships along at a snappy clip. Waves only rolled along to give them a nudge onward. Jack was quite happy with the way things were going. He only worried over a few flaws in his plan. How many days away from Port Royal were they? Would they be able to meet Davy Jones in time to be able to destroy Hel? And - worst of all - what if Jack's notion was wrong? Whit if the heart wasn't in Port Royal? He dismissed this thought as soon as it came. Will had only just started to figure out that Jack had taken the heart before his head was…_accidentally_…clubbed by a certain paddle, and the boy would have handed it over by now to save his lass. Or what he _thought_ was his lass…

The only other possible thief was Norrington, who had wanted the heart to gain his old life back from Beckett. Beckett, Jack thought disdainfully. He stuck out his tongue with a disgusted noise.

"That son of a -"

Jack was cut off from finishing his rather rude comment by a roar that shook the ships and the people upon them to the very core. Yells of terror floated up to where he stood.

"Er, monkey," he finished hastily. "I was gonna say monkey, not -"

A colossal sea serpent erupted from the waters directly in the path of the ships. A geyser of water sprayed from the top of its massive head and rained down on the deck.

"Oh, bugger," Jack muttered. "_This_ isn't the best thing that could have happened…"

The serpent slowly lowered its head so that its eye, the size of half the ship, was only a few feet away from Jack. It looked surprisingly intelligent and human. It was a deep green color, flecked with black and gold. Its breath rumbled all around him.

"Er…we come in peace?" he tried hopefully.

The serpent snapped Jack up into its mouth without warning.

"OI!" he bellowed. "What've I done?" He closed his eyes. The monster didn't swallow or even attempt to.

"You invaded my territory," said a deep female voice.

"Aeh!" Jack yelped. "What the…?"

"I did this so that you could understand my language. It is entirely necessary."

"You have to eat me so I can understand you? Why's that? I'd much rather just…_touch_ you or something. I've 'eard some pretty wild things…and done quite a few meself, honestly, I mean I just got re-incarcerated or whatever the bloody heck it is a little bit ago, and it was no easy feat, not even for Captain Jack Sparrow…but talking to a sea serpent? _That's_ just bizarre."

"I may think the same of humans. You think me enormous and yourselves normal-sized, but I think you miniscule and myself normal. So here we are."

Jack cleared his throat. He still felt a bit foolish. "So why did you ea- want to talk to me?"

"You invaded my territory. I see it as a threat."

"Why not just eat us all for an after-dinner mint? It would be quite easy."

"Is it preferred this way by you?"

"Decidedly not," Jack said quickly.

A deep chuckle echoed around him. "Why have you come to my territory?" the sea serpent asked.

"Just passing through," Jack said.

"For what purpose?"

"Um…look, I've really only got four-and-a-half days before Hel sends her demons after me, and it's really quite the long story, so if you don't mind…Some other time, maybe?"

"Yes…it seems quite the interesting story as well…" the serpent mused. "Some other time, then."

"You're a diamond, luv," Jack said, flashing a gold-toothed grin.

The serpent's jaws opened wide. Jack tipped his hat at an angle and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, appearing totally at ease as he strolled out along the serpent's tongue. It withdrew and sank back to the depths. "Wow," he said. "Never knew those were actually real." He looked around at the crew, all of which was in various stages of gawping and shock. One had actually fainted. Jack couldn't blame them; he looked as though he had just gone for a nice stroll on a sea serpent's tongue without a care in the world.

"Get back to work! Just because I got eaten by a kraken, came back to life, nearly got eaten by a sea serpent, and still came out alive doesn't mean you all can stand there gaping like idiots! _You've got a ship to keep moving!"_ he roared.

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The rest of the day was uneventful. The most that was sighted was a few islands, one which Jack took a quick glance at and ordered the oars out. Only Gibbs understood this, watching the island and taking a nervous gulp of rum every time he thought he heard the sound of drums floating out over the water.

Jack grew more and more restless as the day wore on, still without any event. He jumped each time water lapped on the Pearl's side or when the rigging creaked.

"Sir?"

Jack yelped. "It's rude to sneak up on a person like that, Harringham! See to it that it doesn't happen again!"

"Euhm…yessir. I only wondered whether ye'd like me to take the wheel."

Jack shook his head.

"What do you need me to do, sir?" Harringham said.

"Eh…go give yourself a haircut. Or at least a ponytail," Jack said, eyeing the sailor's messy mop of hair. "Mind you, don't leave it on the deck."

"Aye, Captain," Harringham said. He went off the carry out the captain's strange order. He hung his head out over the water and began to hack away at his hair with a dagger. Then he stopped. He could swear he could see a ship rising towards the surface…

The _Flying Dutchman_ exploded up out of the water in a huge spray of droplets turned orange by the setting sun. Its hull landed on the crest of a wave, sending a fine mist over the _Black Pearl_'s deck.

"Drop anchor and take in sail!" Jack said.

"Aye, Captain, aye!" the crew chorused. As the orders were carried out, a plank dropped from Davy Jones's ship onto the _Black Pearl_'s rail. Jones strolled over the plank to stand in front of Jack.

"What do you need?" Jack asked bluntly.

"Just thought I'd drop in and see how you were faring," Jones said casually.

"That isn't all, I presume?" Jack answered lightly.

"As a matter of fact, no, it isn't." Jones smiled evilly. "I have something that you and Master Turner may want to see," he said mysteriously.

By now, the _Silver Mermaid_ had come up alongside the other two ships, and Will was swinging over on a grappling hook. "What is it?" he asked.

"Come," Jack said simply. He followed Jones cautiously onto the _Flying Dutchman_'s deck and down the stairs.

"Here we are," Jones said cheerfully.

Jack looked around. It was an empty room.

"Will! Jack!" said a falsely light voice. Jack turned towards it. There, illuminated by the faint lantern light, stood Bootstrap Bill.

"'Ello, mate," Jack greeted him.

"What's happening to you?" Will cried.

Jack furrowed his brow and peered closer. Bootstrap's face contorted into a grimace, and his arms and legs crackled as the drew farther into the hull of the ship. Will turned on Jones in a fury. "What did you _do_ to him?" he roared.

"Why, nothing at all," Jones said, that annoying grin still plastered to his face.

"Jones, release him from his vows, or we aren't getting the heart for you! And that's final!" Will said firmly.

"Will, _no_." Bootstrap looked up and fixed his son in his gaze. "Don't risk…" A few tendrils of wood reached around his torso and pulled him in a little further.

Jones snapped his claw together. "Such the threat…and you will rob me of a part of my ship?"

"You have plenty of souls that you can use. Release my father!"

Jones contemplated for a moment. Then he muttered something. The sea life vanished from Bootstrap's body. "There, I have released him from his vows…but he doesn't seem to be free. I wonder why?" Jones laughed his chilling laugh and stumped off.

Jack stared at Bootstrap with immeasurable sorrow in his eyes. "Bill," he murmured. "I never meant for it to end this way, old friend."

"Don't be sorry, Jack. It was always in my blood to die at sea," Bootstrap said quietly.

"I know," Jack answered. "Just...not like this."

Bootstrap smiled. "You were my friend…my best friend. The best a man could ever have. William…remember that. Goodbye, Jack…"

"Goodbye," Jack whispered. He whirled around and stormed up the stairs and back over to the _Pearl_. Will stayed with his father.

"William…I need you to do something," Bootstrap said.

"Anything," Will said fiercely.

"I need you to end my suffering…so I can be at peace."

Will's eyes widened suddenly. "No…I can't…"

"You can," Bootstrap said encouragingly. "You were always strong, Will. Be strong for me now."

Will looked down at the floor. "All right," he said softly.

"Are you ready?"

"No. But I'll do it."

With a huge effort, Bootstrap lurched forwards, freeing himself from the wall. Will caught him before he fell. The younger man hesitated. Bluish-gray water spilled past Bootstrap's lips. Will took out his knife. "Dad…" he whispered.

"It's my time," Bootstrap choked through the water. He leaned heavily on his son and bared his neck.

"I love you, Dad." Will closed his eyes tightly, pressed his knife against his father's throat. He felt the soft resistance the skin made against the knife. He slit Bootstrap's throat.

The old pirate gasped for air, choking on the sea water pouring from the cut, as though his body was clinging desperately for life while his mind pushed it away. Will hugged his father until the last drop of life had fled. He gently lowered the corpse to the floor and, with one last glance at his father's now peaceful face, went back to the _Silver Mermaid_.

After ordering the crew to set sail and directing Cotton to the wheel, he shut himself in the captain's cabin and cried for hours.

A/N: Please don't murder me for killing off Bootstrap. You gotta give the poor guy a break. I mean, really…how long has he been on that stupid ship, decaying? Yeah, I know, Bootstrap rocks…but how much has he suffered? Seriously…and plus it will reveal some new things about Jack in the next chappie. Don't know exactly what it's going to be called yet…be patient and review and you'll find out. Especially the reviewing part….(hint, hint...REVIEW ya bloody lurkers!)


	10. Jack Finally Fires Up

A/N: Yes, the rating was raised, because Jack gets really really angry in this chappie and says a couple nasty words…but nothing major, only semi-bad. By the way…I know peeps are seein' this thing, I've got over 2000 hits, so how come I've only got 19 bloody reviews? Many thanks to those who actually DID review, they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Anyway, I'm rambling. On with the show!

DISCLAIMER: Still own nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Goose eggs. Anything else round you can think of at the moment.

Jack Finally Fires Up

Jack watched the _Flying Dutchman _sink down into the waves with a bitter hate lodged in his heart. His friend. His very best friend…was trapped there in limbo forever. The ship couldn't pull him in, but it couldn't spit him out either. Jack spat at the water where the _Dutchman_ had disappeared. He then turned to the crew. "Weigh anchor," he said heavily. "Full canvas. Run out the sweeps. On Gibbs's beat." He watched the _Mermaid_ follow suit and sail after them.

He gazed out at the darkening waters for many hours until the moon poked its head over the horizon.

"Sir, we should rack the oars an' moor here for th' night. The rowers are exhausted," Gibbs said, bringing Jack back to the present with a bump.

"Aye," Jack said absently. "Rack the oars and drop anchors. Signal to the _Mermaid._ We're here for the night."

"Jack, what did Jones show you that's put you in this mood?" Gibbs asked.

"Bootstrap. He's fading," Jack sighed.

"Ah, poor bugger. God rest 'is soul."

"Aye."

Gibbs crossed himself and went below deck to halt the rowers. They were all on deck within moments, taking in the sails, dropping the anchors, signaling to the _Mermaid_.

A plank was dropped between the rails of the two ships for easy travel. Jack made his way down to the deck for a bottle of rum. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Will coming. "'Ow're you doing?" Jack asked gently.

"I killed him," Will said listlessly.

"Nah. He'll still be alive for a while yet," jack said, leaving out the part about Bootstrap suffering horrible.

"No. I _killed_ him. He asked me to."

"He did." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. He tore himself away from the wall and…I slit his throat. I killed my father."

Jack blinked slowly. "You did the right thing, son, putting 'im out of 'is misery. Better to die quick than all…drawn-out-like…."

"I know….But Jack…my own father…" The words hung in the air so heavily that they were nearly palpable.

"I know," Jack said bleakly, at a loss for words. "Come on." He led the younger man below deck and pulled out a ring of keys. He shuffled through them and stuck one in its rightful lock. He turned the handle up and walked into the room beyond.

"Er…I don't drink," Will said awkwardly when Jack tossed him a bottle of rum.

"Makes things a whole lot easier. Trust me, I know," Jack said. Will watched the pirate's back suspiciously as he followed him out of the hold.

"What's the meaning behind that?" he asked when Jack's cabin door shut behind him.

Jack invited him to sit at the small table. "Would you like both meanings?"

"Something tells me I do." Will took an experimental sip of rum and found he liked it quite a lot. Jack put his boots up on the table and took a far more generous swallow of his drink before he spoke.

"Firstly, I find that rum clears away everything except maybe being at a total loss. And at a total loss, I find, is quite a fun place to be. Secondly…" he paused and took another swig. "I killed my father as well."

Will nearly choked on his rum. "Really?"

"Aye. But I get the feeling mine suffered a bit more. And it was accidental." Jack thumped his fist on his gut to emphasize his point.

"What happened?" Will said.

"To make a long story short, I was admiring his ship. He got angry, I tripped, he tripped and fell on my sword, and I ran." Jack reached up and touched the bone in his hair. "I didn't find out it was my father until a while afterward. Somebody told me that some teenager 'ad stabbed 'im and that I 'ad inherited 'is ship. I found meself a crew and sailed to Tortuga soon after. That was when I found rum."

"And what did you do with the ship?"

"Turned it into a pirate ship. Named 'er the _Black Pearl_. Got into this bloody mess."

"Ah," Will said. He and jack sat silently for a while, drinking the rum. Will could tell that this was the closest Jack could get to comforting him without getting sentimental or actually talking. "I'm sorry, Jack," he said. Jack jerked out of his daze.

"For what?"

"For killing him. He was your best friend."

"Aye, and a good man, too. But he didn't deserve to suffer like he did. You did the right thing, Will. Wasn't anything better you could've done for 'im."

"I could've found the heart and killed Jones to really free him. I didn't have to do it…"

Jack let his feet swing down. "Will, would you rather him suffer?"

"But Jack…"

Jack slammed the bottle of rum down so hard that it broke. Will jumped. "BUT NOTHING!" Jack roared. "I'M TIRED OF YOUR BLOODY SELF PITY! THINK OF YOUR FATHER! WOULD YOU HAVE HIM SUFFER JUST SO HE WAS THERE FOR _YOU_? WOULD YOU?"

"No…but…"

"GOD _DAMN _IT, WILL! SOMETIMES I _WISH_ THAT DAMN HONORABLE STREAK WOULD COME OUT! _THINK_ ABOUT IT! JUST BLOODY CLIMB OUT OF THAT BLOODY PUDDLE AND PUT THAT GOD DAMN HEAD TO USE!" Jack threw the remains of the bottle against the wall and stalked out into the cool night. "Bloody eunuch," he grumbled. "All he thinks of is himself." He walked over and gripped the railing with his shaking hands.

Despite his sentiments to Will, Jack was having a hard time coming to terms with Bootstrap's death himself. It had been a long time since he had been so utterly livid with anyone to yell like that, even with Elizabeth. A very long time.

"_I thought if there was any chance of an escape, I would take it,"_ Bootstrap said in Jack's mind.

"But why? Why Jones?" Jack asked the air.

"Cap'n? Anything you need?"

Jack didn't even bother to look around. He couldn't bring himself to tell Gibbs to bugger off. "Rum," he managed in a choked voice. "Lots…and lots…of rum." Gibbs immediately produced a bottle as though he had known Jack would need it. Jack took it and had a grateful swig. "Bootstrap's dead," he said flatly.

"How?"

"Asked the whelp to put 'im out of 'is misery. Bootstrap, that is. Didn't want to, but 'e did it. 'E'd rather Bootstrap suffer until he could stab the heart," Jack said gruffly. He took a long pull on the rum.

"Jack, ye haven't been that angry since…ye know…"

"Aye. 'E bloody deserved it though. Stupid whelp. Doesn't know what it's like to suffer for that bloody long."

"Aye."

Long silence.

"I'm on watch tonight, Gibbs. Leave me alone."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Jack stayed on watch for a long time, though it could hardly be called 'on watch'. He merely paced on the deck until the entire bottle of rum was gone, and then tossed it into the ocean. "Mmph," he groaned, leaning on the mast. "I need that bloody monkey to shoot."

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Jack slammed the door shut behind him. Will sat in stunned silence at the table. He had never seen Jack in such a blind fury before. But he was right. Now that Will thought about it, it had been selfish to hesitate. But it still hurt. God, how it hurt…it felt like his heart and lungs were attempting to collapse on one another. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. A single tear found its way down his cheek.

"God, Jack. Why'd you do that?" he murmured.

_Because you know I was right, _Jack would have said.

"Felt like crap about this as it was…"

Will listened to the soft voices of the captain and the first mate, not quite able to discern what they were saying. He heard one of them move off; from the rhythm of the gait he guessed it was Gibbs. The door to the crew's cabin opened and closed.

Will barely heard Jack pacing on the deck for hours afterward. All he was aware of was the press of the chair on his back and the cool glass of the bottle on his lips and the rum soothing his throat. Will finally rose and left the cabin after what felt like years.

He walked quietly to the rail and dropped the empty bottle into the ocean. Looking over at Jack, he sighed and then stepped over to the mast that the pirate was leaning on and watching the stars. "Jack," he said softly. Jack didn't so much as give an acknowledging twitch. Will took this as a good sign that he wasn't exploding. "You were right. I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." Jack was still completely ignoring him (or supposedly). "I'm sorry. I just felt bad about killing my own father, that's all," he pressed.

"Why're you telling _me _you're sorry?" Jack said, still not turning around. "Should be apologizing to yourself."

"I don't really know. I suppose because he was your best friend."

Jack grunted. It was as close as he would get to an apology for exploding, although he didn't feel bad about it in the least. "Tomorrow."

"'Night." Will went back to his own cabin feeling strangely comforted.

Jack remained outside. He stared at the hypnotizing rhythm of the waves over the side of the _Pearl_.

One solitary drop fell and mingled with the waves; a lament for a lost man.

A/N: Well, there ya have it! I'll leave you to decide whether it was Will, Jack, or rain. I realize I'm kinda beating up on the characters, but I think the chapters will be kinder to them from now on. I feel it too…Jack and Bootstrap are my favorite characters! Anyhoo…leave me some love!


	11. The ThumpThump

A/N: Hello again! Sorry about the wait…blame my teachers. This chapter is less talk, more action, so I hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER: OI! I own NOTHING, savvy? 'Cept the plotline and any characters you don't recognize. No, not even the lyrics.

_I saw you going down_

_But you never realized_

_That you're drowning in the water_

_So I offered you my hand_

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It was midday when Jack ordered the anchors lowered. There was no sign of land at all. It seemed as if the captain had merely chosen a random spot to moor that tickled his fancy.

"Cap'n, there's no land," Gibbs worried. Jack smiled. Gibbs worried more for his captain's sanity.

"Take a look through this spyglass, Mr. Gibbs, and tell me what you see in a general…_that_ way direction." Jack gestured at the horizon. Gibbs took the small spyglass and raised it to his eye.

"Um, Cap'n? There's nothing but empty horizon."

"Really?" Jack looked surprised. "Look closer then." Gibbs leaned forward and focused on the horizon, turning the end of the spyglass this way and that. Then his hand paused. "Ah, spotted it, have you? And did you happen to notice 'er colors?" Jack pressed. Gibbs peered closer.

"Aye, that I do."

"And…?"

"The…East India Trading Company, Cap'n. Should we run?"

"_That_ is not just any East India Trading Company ship, Mr. Gibbs. _That _is the mother ship."

"What's yer point, Cap'n?"

"That is the only ship that Lord Beckett finds fit for himself to sail on," Jack hinted, placing a light stress on the name. Gibbs looked blank. Jack rolled his eyes. "Lord Beckett is the man that our former crewmate hoped to gain 'is life back from."

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow. "Eh?"

Jack raised his head to the sky and sighed. _Would one not think that after being with me as long as he has that one would be able to figure out my hints? Even if it wasn't that long? God, give me something easier to reason with. Might I request a lump of coral? _"By using the heart of Davy Jones."

"So…you think the heart is on that ship?"

"No. I _know_ the heart is on that ship."

"Jack! What're we doing here?" Will's voice asked.

"Mr. Gibbs and I have reason to believe that the object we are searching for…is just on that horizon," Jack explained.

"What do you mean?"

Jack told Will what he and (eventually) Gibbs had seen. "Are you a strong swimmer?" he added.

"Fairly…why?" Will said. Jack took him aside and voiced the first stage of his plan. "What does that have to do with swimming?" Will questioned.

"You'll see soon enough." Jack smiled mysteriously.

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"They will come back for us, won't they?" Will asked nervously, watching the _Black Pearl_ and the _Silver Mermaid_ sail away.

"O' course they will. They all know that with the luck I have (well, luck to them, but actually incredible wit), I'll find some way out of my predicament to haunt them all. Don't worry about it," Jack reassured smoothly. "Just let me do the talking." He began to row towards the horizon.

"We're not just rowing up to the ship!" Will cried. Jack frowned.

"Boy, do you take the man who has already been mutinied upon one too many times in his life for stupid?"

Will shook his head.

"Good. Just trust me. Savvy?"

When the white sails were just barely visible to the naked eye on the horizon, Jack stopped rowing. He pitched one of the oars as far away as possible. With the other, he pounded the bottom of the longboat until he had a hole a good eight or nine inches wide. The he pitched off the other oar. "What are you doing?" Will asked apprehensively.

"Don't talk. Just help me get water in. Lots of water," Jack said. _"Trust me,"_ he added when Will still looked hesitant. "Jump up and down, splash it in with your hands, whatever, just as long as it gets water in here." He immediately began jumping, arms flailing about. Will reluctantly followed suit, though with less arm waving. "Right. Stop. _Stop._ Just wave your arms and yell," Jack said when the boat was about half-full. "Oi! OI! HELP! OVER HERE!"

"Hey! _Hey!_ Down here!" Will bellowed, waving his arms frantically. He could see a spyglass glinting from the rail.

"Try to cover your face a bit so they don't recognize you. Keep yelling," Jack muttered. "OI!" The water in the boat had reached their knees by now, and it was icy cold. Suddenly, the boat dropped from underneath them. Will went under and came back up spluttering. Jack only just managed to stay up, still waving.

"You m-must b-b-be _mad_," Will growled, the effect ruined by his chattering teeth. He discreetly pulled out his ponytail and let his hair flop messily over his face. He swam after Jack towards the ship. At the side, two ropes were dropped for them to grab. "Or brilliant," Will added appreciatively, beginning to climb.

Jack reached the rail first and collapsed onto the deck face-up. Will made quite a show of being to weak to get over. He finally slithered down onto the wood in what looked like a dead faint. "Good one, mate," Jack murmured in his ear. "Very convincing."

Will felt a pair of hands turn him over, and he struggled not to close his eyes tighter against the blossom of pink-orange sunlight on his eyelids. "Turner and Sparrow," said a silky voice. "Carry them to the brig until they wake up and we can hear their story." Two more pairs of hands, considerably stronger than the first, grabbed him by the shoulders and knees. He left himself limp in the arms carrying him with an effort not to grab his sword and give them a few cuts to remember. He could tell they were going down by the cooling of the air.

Jack was laid down beside Will on the floor and the door slammed shut. _They didn't even take our weapons!_ Jack thought gleefully. _How stupid can they get?_ Cautiously, he cracked an eyelid and instantly found what he was looking for: a solitary guard outside the cell.

So slow were Jack's movements that they were painful. The knife slid from its sheath in an agonizingly sluggish way. It slid up his sleeve, the metal giving him gooseflesh, and he had to make a conscious effort not to shiver. He inched along the floor like an inchworm on its back, a quarter inch at a time. The damp wood grazed along the back of his neck, making all the little hairs stand on end. Then he let the knife handle slide into his hand, stood up, grabbed the guard, and pressed the knife to his neck in one fluid movement. "Don't make a sound unless I say so, mate," Jack snarled softly into the man's ear. The guard nodded fearfully. "Good. So tell me…where does Beckett keep the heart of Davy Jones?"

"I - I can't say," the guard stuttered. The knife pressed harder, drawing a drop of blood.

"You can if I say I won't slit your throat this instant," Jack threatened.

"Or I could stab you in the back, whichever you prefer," Will put in. He pressed the tip of his sword into the guard's back.

The sensation of his own blood trickling over his Adam's apple seemed to embolden the poor guard. "Beckett keeps it in his office, heavily guarded."

"Guarded by what?" Jack said.

"I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

The guard swallowed. "Yes."

"The keys to the cell, then."

"I really shouldn't…"

Jack pressed dangerously hard, knowing exactly where to stop. "If you don't, then I'll take them by force," he hissed. Shaking, the guard handed over the keys. Jack smiled kindly. "Thank you," he said politely, and slit the guard's throat.

"Did you _have_ to do that?" Will stared pointedly at the pool of blood on the floor.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it was entirely necessary. He would've warned Beckett that I was coming," Jack reasoned.

"You could've just knocked him out," Will said stubbornly.

"Let's see you knock someone out through these little squares. I could barely get my arm through to grab 'im, let alone get enough leverage to knock 'im over the head," Jack returned. He fumbled with the keys for a moment, and the door swung open. Beckoning to Will, he stepped lightly up the stairs and bashed the man at the top over the head. "Happy now?" he grumbled to the former blacksmith.

"Quite," Will said.

After a few minutes of slinking through the shadows, jumping every time one shifted, they came upon a fine mahogany door. Jack put a finger to his lips and knocked smartly on the door. "Yes?" Beckett asked irritably.

Jack swung the door wide. "Why, hello again." He grinned, drew his pistol, and shot Beckett in the chest. The tradesman slumped to the floor.

"_Jack!"_ Will seethed. "Not exactly stealth! That will have caught the attention of just about everyone! Maybe there's some little old deaf lady in Australia who didn't notice us! We could have extracted information from him like we did the guard!"

"Who's to say he didn't have a pistol on him? Just find the heart, grab it, and go," Jack mumbled. "So much for 'heavily guarded'…" Footsteps in the hall spurred their search.

Mercer strode in quickly. "Lord Beckett?"

Jack looked up. "No, I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said kindly. He picked up the nearest heavy thing he could reach and knocked Mercer out. Then he ducked under Beckett's desk and swiped a metal box-like contraption with a piece of paper on the top. "Found it," he said. "Let's go."

Will and Jack slipped like a pair of shadows from Beckett's office. They flattened themselves against the wall and waited as a few soldiers trotted by in perfect formation.

"Longboat," Jack ordered. The deck was, luckily, completely empty.

"'Ey! You two!"

Or so they thought.

With almost inhuman speed, Will whipped around and hurled his sword through the man's chest.

"As I said before, that is a _wonderful_ trick," Jack marveled as Will retrieved his sword. "And I thought you wanted to just knock people out?" Will stayed silent. Jack smirked and lowered the longboat. "Think about what I said in that cave," Jack said. The words obviously stung like a slap, but still had a truthful ring to them.

In the longboat, they both took an oar and rowed away from the ship with all their might. The guns were already being run out and loaded. The first cannonball exploded in the water right next to the boat, showering Will and Jack in frigid water. The next barely missed tearing a hole in the bow. The third rocketed past them and blew a hole in the hull of the Trading Company ship. It was forced to pay attention to the firing ship rather than the escaping longboat. Suddenly it was two onto one as the _Silver Mermaid_ began to fire off volleys at an incredible speed.

The _Pearl_ came up beside the longboat and tossed down a pair of ropes. A cannonball tore a gaping hole in the longboat. Will flew backwards with a yell of surprise. Jack had already wound his hand around the rope and was being pulled on board. He swore when he looked back. "OI!" he yelled when he had landed on deck. "MAN OVERBOARD! BRING 'ER AROUND!"

Gibbs didn't bother repeating the orders; he spun furiously at the wheel until it would go no further. The rest of the crew worked their fastest on the sails, all the while trying to avoid being caught in the snapping canvas.

Jack hid the metal contraption behind a barrel and climbed to the bow as it swung around. He could see Will, and the boy didn't seem to be moving.

The crew clearly had no idea how to pull an unmoving man from the water. They threw down boat hooks, grappling hooks, but managed to miss Will every time. "Oh, bugger it all," Jack muttered. He pulled himself onto the railing and leapt.

As he hit the water, Jack couldn't help a little shiver running through him at the icy coldness. His eyes stung when they opened. Ahead, the dark shape of a limp body was slowly sinking below the waves. Jack breached for a brief breath and then submerged. Small, colorful fish scattered as he swam past a coral reef. He shoved it with his boots to gain speed. His lungs screamed for air and his muscles protested at the hard labor.

Will was slowly fading from sight. The darkness was beginning to consume his shape. A hand snatched the puffed out sleeve of his shirt. Jack's head broke the surface, spitting out water and gasping for air. He dragged Will up and struggled to propel himself through the waves. Now, with Will's deadweight weighing him down, Jack could barely keep his own head above water. He gritted his teeth, grabbed his escaping hat, crammed it on his head, and kicked out hard.

The cold was beginning to slow him down. More often than not, he got salty water in his lungs instead of oxygen, and had to pause to cough it out.

A longboat was making its way towards them.

Jack lifted his free hand and waved it above his head.

The cold was dragging him down…Will was dragging him down…He was dragging himself down…

A strong pair of dirty hands seized Jack roughly by the shoulders.

"Jack! Give me Will and hold on to the side. Yer gonna be fine." This was Gibbs.

The East India Trading Company ship had long since realized that it was hopelessly outnumbered. It had ceased fire and turned around back toward where it had come from. Cannonballs were no longer whizzing over Jack's and Gibbs's heads at every turn, making it easier for this to be accomplished.

Jack hoisted Will into Gibbs's waiting hands and heaved himself over the side of the boat. He methodically placed his hands on Will's middle and thrust downwards a few times. Will didn't move. Jack made both hands into a single fist and swung it down into Will's stomach.

Will practically exploded. Water shot up from in between his lips. He rolled over onto his side, clutching his stomach and retching sea water violently into the bottom of the boat. Jack leaned back away from him, though otherwise he remained calm. Will's vomiting soon turned to choking. He coughed up blood that seeped into the boat's wood and was unable to draw breath.

"Jack! What do we do?" Gibbs said, wide-eyed with horror.

"There's nothing we _can_ do. Except wait," Jack said grimly, settling into a more comfortable position.

Will was finally able to settle down and suck in much needed air. He lay at the bottom of the boat in a fetal position, his breath ragged and his eyes closed.

"Will," Jack said. "Say something, mate."

Will groaned.

"Did it hit you?" Jack asked.

Will groaned again and nodded.

Jack swore under his breath. "Where?" Will put his hand on his side and grimaced in pain. Jack carefully removed Will's shirt and hissed at the wound. It was purplish yellow mixed with black, and probably included a couple of broken ribs. Jack tore the shirt in half and tied it tightly around Will's lower torso, ignoring the younger man's weak protests. Gibbs sat and watched the whole process silently. "Gibbs, get us back to the _Pearl._ Now," Jack said in a low, urgent voice. Gibbs nodded and began to row steadily towards the ship. "Will, see if you can sit up here."

Will gripped the seat tightly and painfully settled into a sitting position. By the time he had done so, the nose of the longboat was nudging the _Black Pearl's _hull. Jack helped Will out of the longboat and onto the deck, then into a hammock. "You're not going to be up and about for a while yet, mate," Jack said.

"But Jack…what about the _Mermaid_?" Will whispered hoarsely.

"I'll tell Cotton, his parrott'll give the orders, it's been around ships for so long. Don't worry 'bout it. I've got it all under control."

Will smiled faintly. "Thanks, Jack. I knew I could count on you."

"Always will, mate." Jack gave him a half-smile. "Get some rest. I'll check on you later." He walked out of the crew's cabin, and Will closed his eyes.


	12. Swordplay

A/N: wOwIe. I haven't updated in a LONG time. Sorry…wince I've been having really bad writer's block…I'll try my best to make updates faster in the future. ('try' being the key word here…I don't control my teachers' minds.) Ok. On with the show.

DISCLAIMER: Stop making me say it…and the lyrics belong to whoever wrote that Cat's in the Cradle song.

_Will you teach me to throw?_

_I said 'Not today.'_

Or something like that…

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Chapter 11

Davy Jones popped his upper lip irritably and absentmindedly relieved an itch on his furrowed brow. He knew that he should have foreseen this. Now that Sparrow had the heart, he would never give it up. Not for anything. The Turner boy might have handed it over immediately and demanded Elizabeth back, but not Sparrow. Sparrow knew Jones far too well to do anything of the sort. He wouldn't even reveal the heart's present location, only that it was safely in his possession. "Fine," Jones said finally. "I keep the girl until my heart is in my own hands."

"One problem," Jack said, putting up a finger. "Elizabeth is a relevant part of my plan to defeat Hel's demons. No Elizabeth, no victory. No victory, no Captain Sparrow. And seeing as Captain Sparrow is the only one who knows the heart's present resting place, no Captain Sparrow means no thump-thump. Savvy?"

Jones narrowed his eyes, popped his upper lip once more, and exhaled loudly. "Fine." He signaled to one of his men. "Bring the girl," he ordered.

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Elizabeth was roused from her half-doze by the pounding of footsteps, jangling keys, and the creak of the opening door. One of Davy Jones's crewmen grabbed her roughly by the arm. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, stumbling to her feet.

"The _Black Pearl._ Sparrow wants you back," the crewman grunted. "Lucky for you."

"Where's Bootstrap? I'd like to say goodbye."

The crewman threw back his seaweed-covered head and laughed. It was a harsh laugh, not at all humorous.

"What?" Elizabeth demanded. "What's so funny?"

"Should have said bye a day or two ago. Bootstrap's dead. 'S a shame, 'specially as 'is own son killed 'im."

"_Will_ killed him? _Will?"_

The creature didn't answer, only grinned a green-toothed smile as they crossed the plank between the ships. Elizabeth could see Jack standing and talking with Davy Jones, his face serious for once. Heat rose in her face, and she ducker her head down when he looked up at her.

"Ah, thank you," Jack said when Elizabeth reached him. He took her shoulder and drew her away from Jones and his crew. "You're sure there's no faster way? Remember, mate, the faster we get there, the faster you get your heart."

"No, there is no faster way," Jones said impatiently.

Jack sighed resignedly. "All right then. If you're sure…"

"I am completely and totally positive," Jones growled.

"So…how do we get there, exactly?" Jack said.

"Use that bloody compass of yours…we sail underwater," Jones replied. "Back to the _Dutchman_ and rest up, you witless dogs!" His crew scuttled back over to the _Flying Dutchman_, Jones stumping along behind.

Elizabeth tapped Jack tentatively on the shoulder. Jack grunted in answer. "Jack, will you teach me more about the sword?" Elizabeth said.

"What? No hello or heartfelt apologies?" Jack drew his cutlass and flicked the tip up to Elizabeth's collarbone. She shivered at the cold metal. "Dead already? We really have to work on that, luv, or your head will be rolling on the deck before you can say 'parley'," Jack scolded. Elizabeth sensed a certain stiffness about the old nickname.

"Be fair," she complained, smiling.

"I'm a pirate. What do you expect?"

"That you would at least be fair to me."

"Come, now. The demons aren't going to be any more fair than Barbossa."

"Who, at his best, was actually pretty fair. Come on. Will you?"

"Not now," Jack said. "Later. First, you have to come see Will…I'm not much of a doctor, meself. Are you?"

"A doctor?" Elizabeth echoed. "Why? What's wrong with him? And I want the truth."

"Uhm…he was sort of…er…hit by a cannonball today. He's still alive…" Jack scratched his head and smiled hopefully.

"A _cannonball?_ Doing what?"

Jack winced. "Flying. Towards Will."

"Jack Sparrow, you are impossible. Take me to him. And I meant what _he_ was doing."

"Sitting in the way of said cannonball, unfortunately." Jack turned around and led Elizabeth to the crew's cabin.

Will's eyes opened when they came in. "Elizabeth. You're…back." He pulled Elizabeth down and kissed her.

She allowed him to for a moment, then pulled back. "What were you _doing_, you stupid oaf?" she said playfully.

"Sitting in the way of a stray cannonball," Will said evasively.

"Where did it hit you?" Elizabeth asked.

_Men._

"Here, in the side," Will said, indicating the crude bandage. Elizabeth carefully coaxed the knot apart and let the half-shirt fall away. She took a lantern from the middle of the room and held it up to see better. She touched Will's side, blushing slightly. Will hissed in pain. She moved up to his rib cage and pressed down lightly. He yelped.

"Broken ribs, I think. And there's probably a fair amount of damage otherwise," Elizabeth assessed. "But don't take my word on it…I've no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to wounds."

"That's what I thought when I saw it," Jack said. "Any idea what to _do _about it?"

"Maybe…lay him straight and then tie the shirt around his ribs so they mend straight. Or at least somewhat straight," Elizabeth said uncertainly. "Will…could you try to roll over?"

Will nodded. "I'll try." Wincing and grimacing, he propped himself up on his elbows. He slipped, and Elizabeth steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Her cheeks grew hot when she touched his bare skin. Will fell onto the hammock on his back and straightened himself out, letting out a painful puff of air.

"All right?" Elizabeth asked. He nodded. She wrapped the shirt tightly around his rib cage provoking more yelps and gasps, and tied it in a knot. "There," she said. "Lie still. For a few weeks. No exerting yourself at all. At least that's what the doctor told me when I broke my leg. Hopefully I'm right. Okay? Now get some sleep. I don't bloody care if you're not tired, got to sleep." Elizabeth smiled at the eager young man and left the cabin after Jack, closing the door behind her.

"Now will you teach me?" she pleaded.

Jack sighed. "I'm tired…"

"That's good, otherwise you would probably slaughter me. Please? And what demons were you talking about?"

"Long story short, the person I was with before I came back's a smidge angry with me and wants me back. So she gave me a week until her pet demons come after me. And now we can't get to where we're supposed to be in time, so we're going to have to fight said demons, unfortunately."

"All the more reason to teach me!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I want to fight. I want to help." Jack still looked hesitant. "Why won't you teach me?" She threw her arms up into the air. "It's not like I have a disease or something….Oh." An expression of dawning comprehension stole across her face. "This is about the kraken thing, isn't it? We both know that I didn't want to do that. I'm sorry, all right? I really am. Give me this chance to redeem myself. To save _your_ skin, if nothing else. To make myself feel better, too."

Jack completely ignored her apology. "I thought Will already taught you?"

"Only the basics. I want to be able to fight _better_. I'm only asking you because you're the best swordsman aboard the ship besides Will, and Will's obviously unable to help."

"Fine. Take out your cutlass." It was abrupt, but it would do. Elizabeth obeyed. "Defend yourself. See if you can get me weaponless and begging for mercy," Jack said tonelessly. He lunged, lashing out with a vengeance, and Elizabeth was only just able to parry in time before he attacked down lower, and she was forced to leap over the steel blade. He knocked the cutlass from her loosened grip and rested the tip of his weapon on her collarbone once more.

"Always keep your grip tight so I can't do that. And your form is clumsy. Step with me, not opposite me," Jack directed. Elizabeth waited for him to take his blade away, but he didn't. He made a small nick in her skin.

"Ouch!" Elizabeth gasped.

"That'll remind you to keep your grip tight. That's how I got taught. Get your sword," Jack said, just as colorless as ever. His tone was starting to worry Elizabeth, but she did as he said. "Right. Again," he said.

Elizabeth tried to keep in step with the pirate and keep her eyes on his sword at the same time, but it was impossible to hold tightly to her own sword and do that as well. She lasted only a few seconds longer than before and received another nick in the same place. "Must you do that?" she asked.

Jack didn't answer.

Elizabeth sighed and retrieved her cutlass. Then she made a bold attempt to knock the sword out of his hand, failed, and went on the attack.

"Very good," Jack said, brow furrowed in concentration. "The only thing you need" – he paused, parried a blow, and sent another back – "to remember is that you're not just trying" – jab, parry – "to hurt me, just to get the sword out of my hand." That said, he delivered a crushing blow, sending Elizabeth's sword skittering over the deck. "Like that."

"Not fair, you're stronger," Elizabeth said reproachfully, picking up her sword yet again.

"Then use your size and speed to beat me instead of going at me straight on like you did." Jack made another small cut. "Try again."

This went on for a while, until it was nearly dark. A couple of men had gathered around to watch. The cut over Elizabeth's collarbone grew deeper and began to bleed a little, but she still insisted on continuing. During the final fight, she made a wild swing and succeeded in making a shallow cut across Jack's chest. He growled softly and smashed her sword with the flat of his own blade, causing it to fall.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked, coming over to Jack.

"Fine," he said, waving her off. "It's an improvement. That's enough for tonight."

Elizabeth took it as a promise of another lesson tomorrow night and slid her cutlass into its sheath before going to take a private cabin at the stern of the ship.

Jack smiled grimly at his cut and went off to his own cabin to consult his charts.


	13. The Storm

A/N: Hi all. I just realized I'm not really doing lyrics anymore…yes, I know I said I would, but I'm kinda out of ideas…so I'll only do that when I have an idea for it. Savvy? And my updates will hopefully be faster now. So…the usual disclaimers and weeping and on with the show.

Chapter 12 

At dawn the next day, Jack was to be found standing at the wheel. He opened his compass, looked up, and closed it again. He shook in vigorously and repeated the whole process. "All right, all right, I know," he grumbled, rattling it again. The compass opened once more. He swore.

"I get it. You can stop any time now," he said, smacking the compass's lid. "Don't do it again…please…damn."

"Compass broken, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked brightly.

"Eh?" Jack slammed the lid down. "Oh. Yes. We're going to have to ask dear old Fishface for a heading or maybe a Fishface Junior to help us out." As if on cue, Davy Jones appeared at the helm. "Aah! You've really got to stop doing that without warning." Jones ignored the comment.

"Having troubles?"

"Yes. Broken," Jack said, pointing to the compass.

"Broken?"

"Aye. So we'll need a heading."

"A heading…" Jones carefully consulted a compass of his own, a starfish wrapped over a flame depicted on its cover. "To the west until I stop you."

"To the west," Jack repeated. "Gentlemen, we have our heading! To the west until I stop you!"

"Aye, Captain, aye!" the crew chorused.

The _Silver Mermaid_ hurriedly set sail after them on orders from Cotton's parrot.

"Gibbs, take the wheel," Jack said. "I need to find rum." With Gibbs at the wheel, Jack could go down to the hold, pluck a bottle of rum from the racks with a happy smile, and have a hearty swig on his way up the stairs, humming a pirate song. He was so immersed in his humming that he ran into the person at the top of the stairs.

"So sorry," he said, going off to his cabin before Elizabeth could say anything. "Wait a moment…not cabin. No. Wheel. No…not that either…aha. That's right. The deck, that should work." Smiling to himself, Jack made his way to a quiet, empty spot at the bow and sat down. He put his rum next to him and took out the compass.

"Now to fix you," he growled menacingly at the unmoving compass. He closed his eyes, shook it, and opened the lid. Tentatively, he cracked one eye. Then he opened them both and looked up…and slammed the lid closed. He flicked it, causing nothing but a pain in his finger, and repeated the steps carefully.

"_No,"_ he snarled, snapping the compass shut. "I _know_ already. Something else. Anything else. Come on, now. _Damn_. Stop it." Jack thwacked the compass on the deck and took another swig of rum. "That's it! Point to the rum. Or the _Pearl_. Or something of the like. Anything but…_not that, damn you!"_ He swore vividly and threw the compass across the deck. "Oh…" Jack clutched his head suddenly as a headache made itself known, bringing along with it a black lurking at the edges of his brain. He shook his head vigorously. "Eh…no more rum for…_whoa…"_ The deck of the ship spun as Jack stood up, causing him to drop the rum."

"Jack, I found your compass," said a voice. Jack squinted.

"Who's that?" The person before him blurred and wavered.

"Elizabeth. Who else would it be?" Elizabeth said. A small frown appeared between Jack's eyebrows.

"…Oh. I'm just off to me cabin for a bit of a lie-down…" He coughed and fell forwards, limp as a rag doll, in a dead faint.

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Elizabeth watched Jack hurl the compass away from himself and put his head in his hands. Her eyes followed it across the wood until it came to rest near her feet. She picked it up and opened the lid. The needle swung around to point at the sea. Then it moved to the crew's cabin, where Will lay. Then it pointed at Jack.

Elizabeth sighed and closed it. She slowly stood and walked over to Jack, who had just dropped his bottle of rum. "Jack, I found your compass," she said. Jack looked at her confusedly, then squinted.

"Who's that?" he asked.

"Elizabeth. Who else would it be?" Elizabeth was a little concerned.

"…Oh. I'm just off to me cabin for a bit of a lie-down…" Jack trailed off, still looking confused.

_A lie-down? When does Jack ever have a lie-down? _Elizabeth though. Just then, Jack coughed and passed out on the deck. Elizabeth knelt down next to him. "Jack? Are you all right?" She turned him over. He was pale and sweaty, his brow knit together and his forehead lined with pain, and he was breathing hard.

"Gibbs!" Elizabeth screamed at the fist mate. "There's something wrong with Jack!" Gibbs hurried over to where she sat by Jack's side, directing one of the crew to the wheel on his way.

"Mary, mother of God, 'e's pale. What 'appened?"

"I came over here to give back his compass, and he didn't know the difference between you and I. Then he just sort of coughed and fainted. I don't know what's wrong."

"Help me get 'im t' th' cabin."

Elizabeth found herself hooking Jack's arms over her own while Gibbs took his knees and led the way to the cabin. They laid Jack down on the bed and watched his face change expressions, all the while growing steadily paler. Finally, he coughed again and his eyes fluttered open.

"She wants me back," he said hoarsely. "She wants me back now."

"Tell her she has to wait," Elizabeth told him, completely nonplussed. Jack's eyes rolled in his head, seeming to have a delirious life of their own.

"You said I could have a week…three days left…our deal…three days…" he muttered. "…no…not nice…three…you said…hardly…full strength…enjoy…_ouch…"_

"Jack…"

"…no…stop…won't…twisted…breaker…hate…try…"

"…_Jack…"_

"…need…time…no. _Ow._ Stop…"

"JACK!"

Jack grimaced. His head twisted to the side. "Go…away…" His fist collided with the bedside table. He blinked and groaned.

"Jack…are you all right? What just happened?" Elizabeth said.

"Unh. What is it with women and wanting to murder me?" Jack mumbled. Still as pale as ever, he rolled out of the bed and stumbled out of the cabin. Elizabeth exchanged a look with Gibbs and followed. When they found Jack, he was being sick over the railing. Elizabeth put her hand gently on his shoulder. "Don't touch me!" he snapped in a rough voice. He threw her arm off him and lurched towards his cabin.

Gibbs watched the door slam shut. "Best leave 'im to it," he said quietly. Elizabeth, though reluctant, nodded in acceptance.

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Jack's head was pounding horribly. He rubbed fruitlessly at his temples and tried to push the mad whisperings of Hel's demons away. "Just leave me alone for a while. I have three days left," he grumbled.

_Three long, miserable days,_ the demon whispered. _Come with us now and save yourself the pain._ They continued to drip honeyed venom of this sort into Jack's mind.

"Oh, shut it. I'm not coming till I'm good and ready. Come back in about…sixty-five years and I might call it quits." He finally managed to quiet them down, if only slightly. A cough escaped him. "Oh, come on. At least let me enjoy my last few days," he complained. Another cough was his only answer, and a stabbing pain in his gut.

Jack sighed. "Strangely, I've been offered two deaths, both of them force-fed. And neither of 'em's the way I pictured meself going down."

_Oh. And how did you picture yourself going down? _the demons snickered.

"Actually, I didn't picture meself going down at all. Maybe that could be arranged?" Jack said hopefully. "Oh, it was just a joke…" He nearly threw up again and his head throbbed.

"JACK! IT'S A BAD ONE; I DON'T THINK WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT!"

"Uh…" Jack opened his eyes and squinted blearily at Gibbs. "'Ave I been asleep this whole time?"

"IT HARDLY MATTERS NOW, CAP'N! WHAT DO WE DO?"

Jack rolled himself out of bed. "Go make sure Turner's holding up! I'll take the wheel!" he said strongly. He stepped out after Gibbs into the lashing rain.

The first mate had been right. It was probably the worst storm Jack had ever seen. High waves crashed over the rails, sending men washing across the deck. The lightning was so frequent that the ship almost constantly looked as though it were sailing at noon. Some passed so close that Jack's hair would lift. The thunder was like continuous cannon fire.

Jack stumbled up the stairs to the helm and put his mouth next to the ear of the man steering. "I HAVE THE WHEEL!" he roared. "GET TO THE PUMPS!"

The man said something back, but it was swallowed in a clap of thunder.

Jack grasped the wheel tightly and blinked water from his eyes. The waves were so high that it took all his strength to keep the ship from going off course. A huge wave crashed over the stern and over Jack's head. He slipped, still holding on to the wheel, and was dragged nearly over the edge of the stars. His shoulders screamed protest at the ripping force of the water, and his head started to throb steadily again. He hauled himself upright and set the wheel straight again, shivering.

"JACK!"

Jack looked around to find Elizabeth at the bottom of the stars, clutching the rail for support. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE? IT'S DANGEROUS!" he bellowed. Nevertheless, Elizabeth struggled up the stairs towards him.

"GIBBS TOLD ME TO TELL YOU THAT WILL WAS OKAY, BUT HE WAS GOING TO TRY TO FIND A WAY TO KEEP HIM STILL! HE TOLD ME TO TIE YOU TO THE WHEEL!"

"FINE! BUT DO IT FAST AND GET BACK TO YOUR CABIN!"

Elizabeth was already wrapping the rope around his waist and knotting it tight. She tested the knots one last time and looked up for Jack's approval.

"THEY'RE FINE! GO!"

Jack watched until she had disappeared below and then turned his full attention back to the water. Automatically, his eyes scanned the rigging and sails, and he called for adjustments. He spotted one man, a slight, blond-haired sailor named Barlow, hanging upside-down with his ankles tangled in the rigging. "HARRINGHAM, GET UP THERE AND HELP BARLOW!" Jack shouted. A flash of lightning illuminated the sailor quickly scaling the mast to free his crewmate. It glinted off the strange material of the _Silver Mermaid_'s sails and cast the wave ahead into shadow.

The _Pearl_'s bow rode up the giant wall of water, so far that it seemed that they would capsize, and for a moment Jack was afraid that they would; he clutched the wheel as his feet nearly slid out from under him, glad for the ropes that held him fast; the bow tipped back another fraction; and they rushed down the opposite side and into the valley between the waves.

Gibbs came lurching from nowhere, his clothes sticking to him and his hair plastered to his face and neck. "Good, Elizabeth found ye!" he yelled.

"Aye! 'Ow's Turner holding out?" Jack inquired.

"All right! In a fair bit o' pain, but said 'e'd live! An' you?"

"All right! Best as can be expected! We'll make it! We just 'ave to ride it out!"

"HOY! SPARROW!"

Davy Jones stumped across the deck towards them as though her were on land.

"YOU'VE BEEN BLOWN OFF-COURSE! LET ME TAKE IT FROM HERE!"

Jack gratefully sliced through his bonds and handed the wheel over.

"THANK YOU KINDLY! BUT WOE BETIDE YOU IF YOU SHOULD STEER US WRONG!" he threatened.

Jones ignored him and turned the wheel to the right.

Jack slipped through the door to the crew's cabin and the gale slammed it forcefully behind him. "How're you doing?" he asked Will hoarsely.

"I'd rather be out there than laying in here, but I'm doing okay," Will told him.

"Good," Jack said wearily. "I need a bit o' shut-eye meself, so don't feel like you're the only one."

As soon as the door to the cabin had shut, Jack groaned and flopped tiredly on the bed.

Hot breath tickled his ear. "Two days," a voice murmured huskily. Jack's eyes popped open. "Two days!" The voice laughed a grating, mirthless laugh, and Jack watched its black-red eyes dance with enjoyment.


	14. The Sky

A/N: Okay, I know it may sound weird at first, but I have decided to skip the next 2 days. Nothing exciting or important happens. So….enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: The usual.

_Put me to sleep, evil angel_

_Open your wings, evil angel_

_Fly over me, evil angel_

_Why can't I breathe, evil angel?_

It was the final day. Soon Hel's demons would come and try to drag him down. But strangely, Jack didn't feel nervous. Instead, all he felt was a kind of numb acceptance of the facts. He stood by the rail and watched the calm, yet unnerving gray sea flow by. A bitter wind played with the beads in his hair.

Davy Jones had taken over the steering and navigation of the _Black Pearl_. The crew had gotten used to him. Or at least somewhat. He could still scare them all witless if he pleased, but the initial hilarity had worn off. Now he settled for watching them all with one bloodshot eye.

"How much longer?" Jack said tonelessly.

"Half a day. Maybe more," Jones replied coldly.

"Why can't we go full speed ahead? We'd be there much more quicker."

"I've told you. We can't disturb the water too badly."

Jack sighed and looked back out at the darkening water. "That's it, then. The sun's setting. What happens now?"

"They come for you when your defenses are lowest: when you sleep. They drag your soul back to Hel," Jones said. "And if you don't sleep…they come for your entire body. Their greatest strength is their mental attack. They can make you feel something that you don't really feel."

"So I let them take me. That's brilliant."

"No. You'll see."

"Helpful, that. Encouraging, too. That was never your strong point, was it?"

That made Jones smirk unpleasantly. "It depends."

"On what kind of encouragement is required, you mean? True. The same goes here."

"Oh, aye. Goes for all of us, I suppose, eh, Sparrow? Depends on the situation."

"I'll drink to that," Jack agreed, and he did just that.

"I'd follow your lead if I could," Jones said. Jack didn't say anything. He stood stock still, staring out at something only he could see. His knees were about to buckle. A small, black demon, invisible to all but Jack, sat of the pirate's shoulder and chattered into his ear.

"Your time is up," it giggled maliciously. "Come quietly, now, and it'll be less painful for both of us."

"JACK SPARROW!"

There was a stinging sensation on Jack's cheek. "Ouch! What?" he said. "Did you just slap me? It has a familiar sting."

"Aye, that I did, and with pleasure," Jones bit viciously. "Come on, be more willful than that. Even you aren't that weak." He went back to the wheel.

Jack rubbed his cheek reproachfully. "That was one of them? No kidding?"

"No, it was my pet sea urchin. Think about it. No more of that."

"That the best she has?"

"Oh, no. She has far worse than that. That was a minor one."

"Oh, hell. What?" Elizabeth had come up the stairs.

"Can we have another lesson?" she asked.

"Might as well, seeing as there's nothing else to do," Jack said reluctantly. He unsheathed his cutlass and went for his old trick, but Elizabeth was ready this time, and she blocked it.

Jack glanced back at Jones to make sure he wasn't listening. "This doesn't make any difference, you know," he said. "None at all."

"None?" Elizabeth repeated.

"Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch," Jack confirmed.

"Had a look at your compass lately? Or is it 'broken' again?"

"Oh, my compass works _fine_."

"And what does it point to?"

"None of your bloody business where my compass points. That's for me to know and you to not find out."

"Something tells me it _is_ my business."

"No, it bloody well is not. It doesn't point to _you_, that's for sure. It points…somewhere else."

"Really."

"Really."

"You don't sound sure."

"You're right. I'm not sure. I'm completely and un-sway-ably positive."

"You sound scared."

Elizabeth's sword went spinning off across the deck. She didn't go to pick it up. "I sound scared," Jack said. Scared? He was anything but scared right about now, no matter what he sounded like; he was downright furious, and his voice shook with it. "Scared of what?"

"I don't know. Just scared," Elizabeth said.

Jack moved closer to her. "Let me tell you a few things. Number one, I am incredibly angry with you right now, and you have no weapon. Number two, I am exactly the opposite of 'scared'. And number three, the only things keeping me from giving you a few scars to remember your favorite pirate by are a few shredded strings of self-restraint and witnesses. Savvy? Now," he said dangerously. "Go get your sword and stop talking."

"You wouldn't do anything to me anyway," Elizabeth said bravely. Jack stepped so close that Elizabeth could feel his coat on her leg and his breath on her face.

"Would you like to place a bet on that?"

And right then, Elizabeth found the anger in his eyes and backed off slightly. She would have bet that he would have hurt her if there hadn't been people around. "But would you forgive me?" She knew it was foolish, but she had to hear it from him. The answer surprised her.

"I don't know yet."

"Could you be persuaded to reveal your answer?"

"I don't have one. And I couldn't be persuaded if I did. Leave it."

"You know what? I don't think I will. I'll have to keep asking until I get an answer."

"You would if you had the slightest inkling how angry I am right now."

"But you do know, don't you?"

Jack's fist clenched. "I don't _know_," he snarled. "I don't bloody know. I might not _ever_ bloody know. _Drop it._"

"You might not ever know?" Elizabeth sounded slightly disappointed.

"I told you to drop it. Consider your lesson over." Jack let his cutlass slide back into its sheath and left to go watch the water again. He stopped and closed his eyes. A second wave of pain washed over his brain. He felt a strong inclination to lay down on the deck and go to sleep.

_It would be so nice. Go on. Why not?_

_Because I'm not tired,_ he told himself firmly._ That's why._

_But it's the middle of the night. You must be tired,_ the voice wheedled.

_I was under the impression that the sun had only just set, _Jack countered.

_Ah, but it feels like the middle of the night, doesn't it?_

_No, it doesn't. Leave me alone._

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just enjoying the peace," Jack said pointedly.

"Oh."

Pause.

"Look…"

"…at the water," Jack said.

"No, not that, I mean…look, I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

"I am."

"I still don't care in the slightest."

"Can't you just-?"

"No, I can't. Leave me alone."

"No. Not until you say you forgive me. Because I'll never forgive myself until you do."

"You'll be standing here for quite a long time, then."

"You're such a _moron_."

"Not helping."

Elizabeth slapped him.

"Not helping either."

She took out her cutlass and held it at his throat. "Now _I'm_ getting angry. You're such a pig-headed, rum-soaked-"

"-pirate? I know. Don't force me to hurt you." Jack calmly grasped the blade, yanked it out of Elizabeth's hand, and slid it back into its sheath.

"Oh, you're so-" she started angrily.

"-dashing? Charming? Witty? Anything else?"

"Yes. The fact that you're not fit to captain this or any other ship or lick dirt from Davy Jones's boots."

"I'm hurt." Jack laughed bitterly. "But I've been called worse."

"Oh, really? By whom? I'd like to take a few lessons."

"My father, strangely enough. He won't be able to give you lessons because he's dead. How about murderous, ungrateful, weak little urchin that should be thrown to the sharks?" Elizabeth was silent. Jack leaned his elbows on the rail and watched the horrible roiling water glitter orange-gray in the sunset.

"Jack, look at the sky," Elizabeth said quietly. He did so, tearing himself away from the terrible foreboding the water gave him. "That's what my mother told me to do before she died. Whenever I was angry, she would say, 'Look at the sky. Isn't it beautiful? It calms me down. Try it.' And I would. And then I would calm down."

Jack gazed out at the horizon where the sky was a mix of pink, red, and orange, splashed across the clouds like a watercolor palette had been overturned, seeped into the blue and made itself soft. Gold outlined the ragged clouds, which had a light lavender creeping into them. The mountains had a soft orange glow around them and a stroke of yellow barely visible above. Jack's eyes drank in each new detail ravenously, forever searching for more. He watched for several hours, and never noticed when Elizabeth left, with a secret smile on her face, to check on Will. He only wanted to stay there forever and watch the lavender and gold of the clouds fade, the yellow spot disappear, the orange mountains turn dark, and the colors above recede to a deep navy blue, and then black with shining white stars that twinkled at him in a friendly, unworried way. Even when Elizabeth came out and stood by him again he didn't move. The twinkling movements of the stars entranced him, and his brain only barely registered her presence.

When the moon peeked over the mountains, she put her hand on his shoulder. "We're here," she whispered.

"Good," Jack said softly. He moved away from her touch and made his way up to the helm. "Here being where?" he asked Jones.

"Here being World's End," Jones answered. Jack looked back out over the water, familiar to him and yet still as stranger.

"So what now?" he questioned.

"Drop anchor and wait for tomorrow. She's weaker during the day."

"You 'eard 'im! Let go the anchor!" Jack turned back to Jones. "And 'ow am I supposed to sleep?"

"That's your problem," Jones said dismissively.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

A/N: Well, there you have it. You were probably hoping for a bit more action on the last day, right? Well…not yet. Lots more next chapter. Btw, does anyone have any tips on writing Davy Jones? I'm not that great at dialogue with him. As usual, leave me some love…and I am writing a sequel.


	15. The Demons

A/N: Less talk, more action this chapter. LOTS of action. So…hope you like it, leave a kind review when you finish. And I can't think of any lyrics to describe this chapter…sorry….

DISCLAIMER: The usual. ((cries))

Chapter 13 

Jack never got to sleep that night. He decided to go outside again after the first dream. He sat cross-legged on the deck and watched the moon's steady progress across the sky. It was the longest night of his life. The most boring, too.

There was a soft gray light in the east when he heard the growling cough. Jack's hand went automatically to his cutlass and he turned around. He had barely enough time to register a pair of glittering eyes before the demon sprang. Jack unsheathed his sword, rolled to his feet, and-

He was bowled over by a hairy mass of fangs, limbs, and leathery wings. The demon snarled at him and made a slash in his arm. Jack snarled back and beheaded it. The head rolled off across the wood. The arms went to the headless neck and felt it gingerly. A gurgle of distress bubbled from the creature's throat and Jack threw it overboard, along with the head. The limbs thrashed for a moment and went still. Black liquid fizzled on the deck.

"Nasty," Jack commented. "Very nasty."

_Nasty indeed,_ giggled a voice. Jack groaned. His headache was back.

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Dark shapes were floating amiably through the water. What looked like thing black cloth flowed around their outlines. Small, beady eyes shone dully from deep sockets. Yellowed fangs slid from between parched lips. The flimsy black cloth was left behind. Human limbs elongated. Leathery wings burst from their shoulder blades. Short, dark fur sprouted on their bodies. Hands reached up and, with their newly grown claws, grasped the wood of a ship.

Moaning with bloodlust, Hel's servants began to scale the side of the _Black Pearl_.

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"Listen, Sparrow. They come."

Moaning, the crackling of joints and wood.

"I will give you what is necessary to send you down. Stay still until you can see her. Then you can try something. Got it?"

"Got it. I need to tell the lovely Miss Swann something first."

"Make it fast."

Jack beckoned to Elizabeth. "Listen, Elizabeth. I'm guessing the demons will disappear as soon as I kill Hel. When that happens, go into my cabin. You will see a metal box on the table. Choose a random lever and push it down. All right? No time to explain. Good luck." All this was murmured at top speed into Elizabeth's ear. She nodded.

"Right. Take this," Jones said, holding out a small stone. "It will take you to her chamber, nothing more. When you kill her – or _if_ you kill her – you will be taken back to this spot on the deck. I wouldn't normally say this, but the best of luck to you. Here."

Elizabeth stood as though she would have flung her arms around Jack were he not so angry with her as he took the stone. It seared his palm. He yelped and tried to let go, but he could not unclench his fingers. It felt as though he were being squashed through a metal pipe that was far too small for him. Then, with a loud popping noise, he was falling through the air, landing hard on his shoulder. A haze around him cleared to show Hel sitting on her stone chair, this time in a black dress. Jack stood up.

Hel smiled. "So. You, like so many before you, seek to destroy me," she stated. Her voice was so warm and sweet, but there was an underlying cold there. "But before you try…I would like to offer you something.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Of what nature?"

"Doubtless you know of my past dealings with Davy Jones."

"Of course."

"And I know what a powerful ally you could be against him, not to mention good for conversation and the like. I would like to offer you a position beside me. As my equal."

"Tempting. But I'll have to say no."

"No." Hel seemed perfectly happy with the answer. "If you insist. But I must ask you…how is it you plan on killing me? I always find this amusing."

"Amusing that so many people would like to kill you? Or amusing as in the foolish plans that those people come up with?" Jack said evasively.

"A bit of both," Hel told him. "Mostly I ask in dreams, for not many make it this far. I must say it gets rather tedious, the same thing, day after day. So I welcome a challenge. If you were here, it would be far less tiring. We could talk and do things together. Why not?"

"The answer's still no. I don't take a particular pleasure in torturing people. That much," Jack added.

Hell sighed, showing canines a bit pointier than normal. "I had hoped that I wouldn't have to bring out my little surprise for you," she said, though her tone suggested quite the opposite. "If you wish to get to me, you must go through…_this."_ Hel snapped her fingers once. With a shuffle, something behind her throne got to its feet. Jack's hand went to his sword. A booted foot extended out, followed by the form of a young woman. She seemed familiar. Jack squinted at her. The woman slowly walked up to him and drew her sword.

"Hello, Jack."

It was Elizabeth.

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The door creaked slowly open. Through it floated screams and cries of triumph, from humans and demons alike. Will suspiciously eyed the empty doorframe, squinting a little at the light. A scrabbling noise made him look up – at the empty ceiling. Something behind him was breathing in deep, growling breaths. Now it was right over his head. Will groped desperately for his sword on the little table next to his hammock. He felt the hilt, grasped it –

The demon dropped down on him. Will shouted and tried to throw it off with his free hand while shaking his sword, with agonizing slowness, from its sheath. A searing, blinding pain in his shoulder told him that the demon had bitten him. He could tell that the sheath was on the very tip of the sword; he swung it up, battering his attacker over the head with it and slashing at any part he could reach.

The demon's teeth must have been poison. Will could feel it seeping through his body, slowing his reflexes and earning him a gash on the side of his face and a few other cuts. He knocked the demon to the floor. It howled its displeasure and began to scuttle up the wall again. Will shifted into a sitting position and, shaking, raised his sword one more time.

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Jack smiled. "'Ello, Judas."

Elizabeth smiled back. "I'm not sorry," she said. And this time, there was no remorse in her eyes, no heavy tears burdening her throat. It was different. Very different.

Elizabeth attacked with surprising speed and strength for one of her size. Her sword clashed with Jack's and jarred him backwards. "Been working with weights, lass?" he asked, parrying another blow. Elizabeth ignored everything but Jack's sword and his step. "Oh, come on. You've got to at least keep up a good conversation while you're fighting. Otherwise it gets boring."

"Really, Mr. Sparrow? What shall we talk about, then?"

"How about that thing creeping up behind you?"

Elizabeth glanced back, and Jack managed a nice cut on her forearm. She launched herself at him once more. Then she stopped, staring at something over Jack's shoulder, eyes narrowed. _"You,"_ she growled.

"Not falling for it," Jack informed her. For some reason, though, he couldn't bring himself to attack her. There was a small chink of stone on stone behind him. Jack turned his head back for a glimpse of whatever was there. He swiveled around fully. And fell to his knees in awe.

Standing before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen before. It seemed to be made from spun moonlight and clouds, but strong and majestic, not weak or flimsy in the slightest. It shone with a pure white light that bathed the chamber in an unearthly glow. A single spiraling horn of pearly texture thrust forth from the creature's forehead. Gigantic snow-white wings flared around its muscular body, quivering. The winged unicorn gave a trumped of defiance that shook the walls of the chamber with its echoes. Jack felt strangely compelled to bow to the creature; he inclined his head. The creature gave a powerful snort and tossed its huge head.

Jack heard a low, throaty growl behind him. He turned around, getting to his feet. Elizabeth was shimmering, her form melting and spreading in a mist that shaped itself and drew away to reveal a jet black dragon, curled horns jutting from the sides of its head. Hel looked almost afraid.

"You're on the opposite side of the balance. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Balance? What balance? I'm always off-balance," Jack said.

"The balance that keeps the world as it is. You keep the good in the world. I give it its bitter aftertaste. You didn't know?"

"I know the bitter aftertaste part, having experienced it myself. But me? Good? How d'you figure that? I'm a bloody pirate. A scallywag. Terror of the seven seas and all that trash."

"_I_ don't figure it. But now I know. No one else could call that…_creature._"

"Yeah, speaking of, what exactly are they?"

"Made purely of good and kindness, and evil and spite."

A terrible snarl sounded; the ebony dragon heaved itself into the air and hurtled towards the winged unicorn. In an instant, a sleek, icy white dragon was corkscrewing away. The two spiraled into the air, clawing and snapping at each other, performing an aerial dance whose next step depended on those of your partner.

Hel stared into Jack's eyes. He stared back, struggling to repel her mind with all his might. Fatigue settled into his bones. Nevertheless, he grasped his cutlass tighter and lashed out. His blade was halted with a jarring _clang_. Hel leaped furiously to her feet and attacked, driving a slowly weakening Jack to the back of the chamber. She flourished a whip, which crackled with flame, and gave it a flick in his direction; Jack only just managed to dodge it, hopping up the first two stairs and slipping on their glassy stone surface – and falling – and sliding away, scrambling to his feet before Hel could reach him.

She attacked him again, her strength outstripping his own.

No fair, you're stronger, Elizabeth complained.

_Then use your size and speed to defeat me instead of going at me straight on like you did, Jack said._

Jack ducked Hel's blade and rolled, swinging his sword wildly, only to be caught on the back by the very tip of Hel's sword.

Above, the white dragon was nicked by the dark one's claws.

Jack threw himself at his opponent straight from the floor, a feat that, in the state he was in, surprised even him. Teeth gritted with effort, he fought with all he had, sapping away more and more strength until-

Hel lifted her hand, causing Jack to collapse onto the floor. He writhed in agony. His bones were on fire. His head pounded. His limbs jerked. He threw up and closed his eyes tight. The pain persisted. Slowly, shivering and doubled up in agony, he stood up, straightened. "I'm not as weak as you might think," Jack growled through his teeth.

Hel sneered. "You're not as strong as you think, either."

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Elizabeth threw off the demon's arms and ran her cutlass through its chest. It squealed and dropped to the deck. She slashed furiously at a gigantic, hairy, muscular one that was easily overpowering Gibbs. It looked around at her, and Gibbs took the opportunity to behead it.

A fat drop splashed on Elizabeth's head. She looked up at the dark clouds overhead and received another drop on her nose. The skies opened up, and the rain began to pour.

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Hel flicked the whip again, and this time it caught Jack around his middle. He stumbled back; Hel murmured something; the whip crackled with flame once more. It scored a deeper gouge across his chest. He fell to the ground and made no attempt to rise again. Hel gave a twisted grin of triumph and swooped down.

Jack ignored the pain racking all parts of his body. As Hel came down on him, he thrust his cutlass upward with all his remaining strength.

In the air, the winged unicorn darted forwards.

The dark dragon opened its mouth in a silent scream as it plummeted down, down, and faded into ash.

Hel stared silently at the sword protruding from her chest. _You,_ she mouthed._ You will pay._ She grasped the sword in her shaking white hands and pulled it out. It clattered to the floor and lay there, stained red with blood. More of the crimson liquid spilled in pulses from Hel's chest. She looked at Jack once more and sank to the floor.

Jack, unable to move for pain, simply lay.

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Elizabeth pushed the sopping hair from her eyes and quietly slipped into Jack's cabin. On the table, as he had said, was the metal box. She chose a lever and shoved it down. A roar of pain reached her from outside, and she knew exactly what she had done. Elizabeth tiptoed to the door to see Davy Jones clutching his chest and gasping. "Curse you Jack Sparrow!" he bellowed. He gave one final jerk and fell to the deck. His crew fell with him, becoming nothing more that chunks of dead sea life.

In the distance, the _Flying Dutchman_ crumbled into hundreds and hundreds of white corpses.

And in the middle of the deck lay Jack, his white shirt stained with blood, unmoving.

"No," Elizabeth moaned. "No, no, no, no…" Gibbs had already discovered his captain and was dragging Jack's body towards the cabin. "I should have known…I should have gone with him…" Elizabeth scolded herself, dashing back out into the deluge to help Gibbs.

"He's in a bad way. Barely breathin'," the first mate said grimly, laying Jack on the bed.

"He's _alive?"_ Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"Aye. But only just." Gibbs carefully untucked Jack's shirt and tugged it off. "Get some rum and a rag to clean this out with," he said, shaking his dripping hair from his eyes.

Elizabeth didn't dare look at what "this" was, but instead hurried to find the requested items. When she returned, Gibbs dipped the rag into the rum and rubbed it gently through Jack's wound.

"There's nothin' more ye can do. Go on to yer cabin and I'll call ye if 'e wakes up."

Glad for an excuse to get away, Elizabeth did so immediately.

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The first thing Jack was aware of was that someone was cleaning out his wound, and apparently with rum, because it stung like mad. The second was that he was dying, slowly wasting away. He opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs. "Move," he whispered, trying to get out of bed.

"No, Cap'n, ye've gotta stay down fer a while," Gibbs said, pushing Jack gently onto the mattress. Jack punched him in the nose and staggered out of the cabin. Down the hall, he limped, hunched over. Elizabeth's cabin was at the very end…right there…

He stumbled, his hand clenched the doorknob for support; he collapsed just outside the door. A moment later, Elizabeth poked her head out and screamed, dropping to her knees next to him. "JACK!"

Jack smiled at her. "Y…y-es?"

"What the…why…how…"

"Tell you…a few things," Jack said. "Need to."

"What?"

"First…get compass."

Elizabeth obeyed, placing it in Jack's hand. He opened it. "Look." The needle swung – and pointed straight to her. She gasped, but Jack cut her off. "Second…tell Will…sorry. And…"

"And?" Elizabeth prompted quietly, tears streaming down her face.

"Not…not…make it. Die," Jack murmured. "No…don't cry…"

"No, you mustn't think that way. You'll make it, don't worry. You're Captain Jack Sparrow. You…"

"Not fit…to lick dirt…from Jones's…boots," Jack chuckled. "One more…thing….forgive you." His hand shook violently as it clutched Elizabeth's.

"Hold on," she sobbed. "Hold on. For me."

"Try. Hurt."

Right then, there was a spark of hope. But Jack's breathing grew shallower. Gibbs found them, plugging the flow of blood from his nose, and knelt beside his captain while Elizabeth's body quaked with sobs. A deep cough rumbled like thunder in Jack's chest. Dark bubbled danced at the corners of his mouth. He looked at Elizabeth again, smiled, and closed his eyes.


	16. The Aftermath

A/N: HOLD THE TOMATOES!!! Read this before you throw them. Please? ((screams and pulls out shield)) I SAID NO TOMATOES!!!!!!! Geez.

DISCLAIMER: Uhm…HELLO? Have you read the last however many chapters?

Chapter 14 

"Elizabeth."

All he heard were huge, gasping sobs beyond the door. He tried again, this time louder.

"Elizabeth."

There was a pause, and the door opened. "Yes?" she whispered. Gibbs sighed.

"Would ye like the good news or the bad news, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Good news. I've had it with bad news."

"The good news is that Jack's still breathin'. He may make it yet, but 'e's in a sorry state."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up with hope, and then dulled slightly. "And…and the bad news?"

"The bad news is…I'm not so sure about young Mr. Turner."

Elizabeth stared. No crying, no yelling, nothing. Just stared.

"He asked for ye," Gibbs said uncomfortably. "He's in another one o' the private cabins." He pointed to a door.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said. She knocked on the door and let herself in.

"'Liz'beth?" Will mumbled. It sounded as though he had just woken up.

"Yes."

"Jack."

"Not doing so well….He told me to tell you sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know. He just said tell Will sorry." They were quiet for a moment.

"I know," Will murmured finally.

"Know what?" Elizabeth asked.

"I could tell. Was…sort of obvious," Will said.

"What was obvious?" Elizabeth said.

"Loved you. He loved you. Wanted to…tell me he…was sorry for…loving you, I think."

"Yes. And I'm sorry too."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry, Will. I love him back." Will didn't say anything. "I'm sorry," Elizabeth repeated. "I didn't want to. But I do."

"Don't be."

"What?"

"Don't be sorry. Just want you…to be happy."

Elizabeth knelt by the bed and put her hand on Will's brow. "Thank you. I knew you would understand."

"No. Don't understand. Okay with it though," Will said.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said again. She took a damp cloth from the little table and pressed it soothingly on Will's forehead. He grunted and pushed it away.

"Tell Jack…I'm sorry, too."

"I will. I promise."

"Now. Do it now."

"Not now. Later. I want to stay with you."

"N-no…please…I don't want…you here…if it…happens."

"You're afraid."

"No…I don't want you…to be."

Elizabeth looked at Will sorrowfully. "If I have the guts to murder Jack Sparrow, I can stay with you now." Will sat up. "Hush, lay down," Elizabeth said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Will, no matter what, I want us to be friends. Good friends. Can we do that?"

"Yes," Will said. "No matter…what." Elizabeth caught him in a hug. He smiled.

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He hovered between life and death. He would have let go, but he couldn't forget the words choked out between sobs as he lay on the ground.

Hold on. For me.

He held fast to the words like a lifeline.

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on… 

His chest hurt like mad. He hurt in a dozen other places, too.

Hold on.

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. _

The fire leaped and crackled. They danced.

We're devils, we're black sheep, and really bad eggs…Drink up, me hearties, yo ho… 

He didn't spill a drop of rum. Net even half a drop. Unless you counted the fraction that ended up in his mouth…

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.

_Hold on._

Something prodded his brain.

Wake up.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't lift his eyelids and wake.

Wake up.

He struggled – to no avail. His struggles fell still for a long while. For a long while, he didn't think. He only felt, only sensed. He only sensed that he was alone. After that long time, Jack suddenly opened his eyes. With a quick glance, he knew he was alone in the cabin. He took his shirt and slipped it over his head, not able to help noticing the long, ropy scar that slashed over his chest.

A stifled sob floated in from outside. Jack stepped into his boots and tiptoed out on deck. There was Elizabeth, holding herself and rocking back and forth as she sat on the wood. Jack came up behind her and silently sat. He wrapped his arms over Elizabeth's. "Look at the sky, luv," he told her. Don't look at anything else but the sky, and the sunlight bouncing off the water." Elizabeth went quiet, still shaking. "Isn't it beautiful?" Jack said. Elizabeth giggled.

"The way everything looks right now, it looks like a drunken pirate tried to paint."

Jack gave the back of her head an affronted look. "That meant to be an insult, luv? That's not very nice." He wiped her eyes with his thumb. "Better?"

"Mmm. It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Aye, that it is. Now what was ailin' you before I came out her?" Elizabeth ducked her head. "No. No, no, no, no, no, don't cry, please, I don't do well with tears, no, no…Oh bugger. Come on, that's not helping. Do I really smell that bad?" Jack joked weakly. Elizabeth only cried harder. "Aaahh…Look, now, tell me what's wrong, or I can't help," Jack said, now panicking slightly. "Oh…come here. There. Ah – careful…There you go. Right. Tell me what's got you in this state."

"First tell me something," Elizabeth said. "Tell me why you suddenly forgave me."

Jack pulled her closer. "I got to thinking," he said. "And I probably would have done the exact same thing you did. Maybe a bit more forceful, but in effect the same thing. Now you answer my question. Elizabeth buried her head in Jack's shirt.

"I thought I was losing you," she whispered.

"Come now. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I don't die."

"I know. But I was still afraid."

"Were you singing to me?"

"Singing?" Elizabeth looked up. "I might have."

"You kept me alive. I nearly let go at one point," Jack confessed. "But I held on. Like you told me to."

"There was something else, too. Will died today."

"No!" Jack exclaimed softly. "He did?"

Elizabeth nodded, a few more tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm sorry, luv," Jack mumbled in her ear. "He was a good man, he was." Elizabeth nodded again and let out a strangled sob.

"Jack, I'm going to _miss_ him! He was so _nice_…"

"I know. We'll all miss him. He was a good friend." It seemed as though all their sorrow for Will was wrapped up in those words.

"How long have I been asleep?" Jack asked, changing the subject smoothly.

"Two months. We had to stop in Tortuga for supplies," Elizabeth replied bleakly.

"Two _months?_ Really?"

"Yes."

Jack looked at Elizabeth and sighed. "I can tell it's been a long day for you, luv. I'll hang a hammock in my cabin, you can 'ave the bed."

"No, I couldn't. I'll take the hammock. It's your bed," Elizabeth declined.

"Which means I get to do whatever I please with said bed. And I want you to sleep in it."

Elizabeth yawned. "You win. As long as we switch tomorrow night."

"We 'ave an accord. Come on." Jack heaved himself to his feet, setting Elizabeth upright. Once the hammock was hung, he clambered into it and lay down. There were a few creaks while he got comfortable, and then silence, save for the slow, deep breathing of both occupants of the cabin.

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When Elizabeth woke up, it was quiet. She couldn't even hear Jack's comforting rhythmic breathing. She glanced up at the hammock. "Jack? Are you awake?"

"Aye."

"Come here."

Jack leapt lightly to the floor and walked over. Elizabeth sat up. "Why are you awake?"

"I had a dream," Jack mumbled to his knees. "About…what happened. Down there."

"Oh."

"You have no idea…being there was like…was like…I don't know…forgetting who you were. Just drowning in your worst memories, and anger, and sorrow, and hate…Sometimes I didn't even know who I was. I couldn't stand it. I didn't know who I _was…_" Jack sat next to Elizabeth on the bed and looked down. "It scared me. More than anything else ever has. Now…I know…but there's that feeling that I've forgotten something. Something important."

"No, it's all right," Elizabeth murmured, putting her arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry. I'll be here if you ever need me."

Jack was quiet.

"You're Captain Jack Sparrow of the _Black Pearl_. You escaped from the island where Barbossa marooned you. You sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot. You escaped from under the eyes of seven East Indiamen. You struck a deal with Davy Jones, got eaten by his kraken, and came back. You killed Lady Hel, got your chest cut open, and still escaped with your life. You got the governor's daughter to fall for you. If those aren't accomplishments, Jack, I don't know what are. Okay? Jack? Are you…oh my…"

"He's really dead, isn't he? It's my fault."

"No!" Elizabeth was shocked. "The demon that bit him had poison in its teeth, and he died from it! Unless you're wearing a mask or something, I don't think you even _remotely_ resemble one of those creatures."

"If I hadn't taken him with me that day, he wouldn't have been hit by that cannonball. He would have been able to fight."

"Will would have gone with you anyway! He would have wanted to, no matter what you said."

"I…know."

"Oh, Jack. Stop blaming yourself. It's survivor's guilt, that's all."

"I…know. But he saved my life. And…I couldn't…save his."

And as Elizabeth watched, something totally unexpected happened, something that almost scared her to witness. Glittering silver in the moonlight, a single tear squeezed its way out of Jack's closed eyelid and wound its lonely way down his cheek. Elizabeth wiped it away shakily and hugged him tight. And then she began to cry into his shoulder. For what, if it could coax even a single tear from Jack Sparrow, could not make Elizabeth cry too?

A/N: Right, guys! Only one chapter left, and then the sequel. I got 8 reviews for the last chapter! OMG! Thank you guys so much! I'm hoping to get lots of reviews here too. Please:) Hoping to see you next chapter!


	17. The End

A/N: Well, here you have it, folks. The final chapter. Review at the end, hope you like it, and watch out for the sequel, which is unnamed as of yet. Read (AND REVIEW) on!

DISCLAIMER: If you haven't figured out that PotC doesn't belong to me yet, you need some serious help. No, really.

_Someone save me _

_If you will_

Chapter 15

They were at the mouth of Tia Dalma's river by the following evening. They were moored there on Jack's orders, who also told Elizabeth that he didn't want to go up-river at night. What if the crocodiles decided to come out? He had only done it before because he was in a hurry. Gibbs gave he captain a suspicious look, but said nothing. Elizabeth just stared, eyes narrowed, until Jack took her shoulder.

"Come, luv. Let's get some sleep, and I promise we'll row out as soon as everyone's awake tomorrow," he said. And they did just that, Jack helping Elizabeth into the hammock as it deposited her on the floor the first time, and then laying down himself. Elizabeth rolled over and watched him sleep until she drifted off herself.

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It must have been around midnight when Elizabeth woke to find the cabin empty. But she had almost expected that; it wasn't like Jack didn't have other things to do. She stretched, stepped into her boots, and went to find out what he was doing.

Outside, the deck was completely empty. The black cloth that depicted the Jolly Roger fluttered limply above. The wood creaked desolately beneath her boots. That was strange. Jack usually had a night watch. Then she noticed a longboat missing.

_Now he thinks I can't handle giving Tia Dalma her ship back? He should know better than that! _ Elizabeth thought furiously, lowering a second longboat. Still fuming, she rowed quickly down the river and tied her boat beside the one already there. She quietly ascended the stairs and peeked through the window.

Elizabeth could see the crew standing uncomfortably around the table where Jack was talking to Tia Dalma. The voodoo priestess took up the crab claws, muttered something, and let them fall, studying their pattern. That was when Elizabeth decided to open the door and walk in.

Jack looked around at her and opened his mouth, but Tia Dalma cut him off in a warm voice. "Ah, and 'ere 'tis the only woman that could tame Jack Spar-row's heart," she smiled. "Quite a feat fo' one o' yo' age."

"Speaking of Jack Sparrow, I need to talk to that same man. _Alone_," Elizabeth growled.

"Ah…can it wait? We're in the middle of something impor-"

"Now."

"All right, all right. Sorry, mates, be back in a moment. Or not," Jack amended, wincing at the look Elizabeth gave him. Tia Dalma smiled knowingly as the two made their way outside. "What's this all about, now?" Jack asked impatiently.

"Why didn't you wake me? Because you thought I couldn't handle returning a ship?" Elizabeth demanded. Jack winced again.

"Well, I just thought you looked so-"

"Tired be damned. You were probably more tired than I was."

"Elizabeth-"

"Don't 'Elizabeth' me! You should know better!"

"Lizzie - darling-"

"Jack Sparrow, you are so-"

Jack took Elizabeth by the shoulders and gave her a soft kiss. "There," he said. "Now will you let me get a word in edgewise?"

Elizabeth looked at him nonchalantly. "Persuade me." Jack grinned.

"Gladly." He kissed her again, and Elizabeth let him. He held her head in his hands. "Are you sufficiently persuaded?" he asked, still grinning his lopsided grin.

"For now," Elizabeth said indifferently, smiling.

"Now," he said. "If I may slip a word in here."

"You may."

"What if I told you," Jack murmured, "that Will could be saved?"

"I would say," Elizabeth whispered, "that you were the most amazing person I have ever met in my entire life." And she kissed him back.

A/N: Well? Like it? Hate it? Let me know! Until we meet again.

iamanundeadmonkey


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